


Caught in a Thousand Strings

by Thai_Tea_Addict



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Disturbing Themes, Drug Use, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Feels, Gen, M/M, Recovery, Underage Prostitution
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 256,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thai_Tea_Addict/pseuds/Thai_Tea_Addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sai wakes up to find everything he'd gone through to be a dream. Longing for what he once had, Sai seeks out his student - only Shindou Hikaru isn't exactly what Sai had expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fate's Draw

**Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.

**Pairings** : OgataSai (eventual), AkiHia (very eventual)

**Warnings** : Please see the tags.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_Fate's Draw_

* * *

 

Fujiwara Sai woke up.

Panting, he tried to overcome his disorientation as his eyes adjusted to the light. He couldn't move his body; his limbs felt heavy and exhaustion weighed him down. Oxygen shuddered down his throat with the help of a mask hooked up to a gas tank, clean and fresh and sterile.

Sai woke up in a hospital - which was strange, because he had about two and a half years worth of memories saying he went under as a ghost.

"Fujiwara-san? Can you hear me?"

A man's face swam into view. Aged and wrinkled, but the eyes were alert and concerned as they peered back at Sai. Sai did not recognize him, however; a stranger was bent over him, one hand delicately holding his thin wrist and speaking to him gently.

"Fujiwara-san, blink twice if you can understand me."

Dutifully, Sai blinked twice. _Doctor,_ Sai recognized. He was in a hospital, this man was a doctor - but the question was why. Why was he in a hospital and why did he have these- memories? Dreams? of being a Heian-aged ghost that haunted a young boy?

_Hikaru!_

Sai's eyes widened as he tried to lurch up, but he wasn't able to do much more then shakily flop forward. The doctor caught him and settled him back down in alarm. "Fujiwara-san, calm yourself! You're in no shape to be moving quite yet!"

Sai tried to explain himself to the doctor - _where was Hikaru?_ \- but no sound came from his throat. Instead, it felt raw and dry, croaking with disuse so that it brought tears to Sai's eyes. His expression was noticed by the older man but interpreted differently, "You've been in a coma for the past two weeks, Fujiwara-san. Please calm yourself!"

Sai stopped flailing to let that statement sink in. He had been in a coma...for two weeks? So him being a ghost, teaching Honinbou Shuusaku, _Shindou Hikaru himself_ \- all of it was a dream?

_Hikaru isn't real?_

Some part of Sai knew this. He was not the ghostly hand of Honinbou Shuusaku - he was a devout fan of the Go legend, having studied the man's plays obsessively. He was Fujiwara Sai, a 26-year-old Go professional that had already claimed the title of Meijin and fought to keep it from his rival, Touya Kouyo. He was the only child of a rich businessman who regularly sent him money in place of love, the son of a woman that had taken her own life when Sai had graduated junior high school. A cheerful, somewhat childish man that smiled as bright as the sun and dominated the goban with such an intensity that left his opponents shaking.

And Shindou Hikaru was a figment of his imagination.

* * *

 

  _"You were involved in a car accident."_

Physical therapy had been exhausting. Sai had to down supplement after supplement to replenish the muscles that had atrophied. Luckily, two weeks wasn't long enough to cause any severe damage, but long bouts of walking still exhausted him. His father had offered to call him a driving service, but Sai declined and opted to call a friend of his.

_"The driver fell asleep at the wheel and ran a red light. The collision threw you several meters, and you cracked your skull when you landed on the pavement."_

Ogata Seiji looked as relieved as much as the professional could, not even making one complaint or snide comment at Sai's disheveled appearance. The car ride back to Sai's upscale apartment was quiet, but it was a comforting one. Sai felt like he had many things to think over.

_"We stitched the fracture closed, but you didn't wake up even after we'd lifted the drugs. Just a few days ago, however, you started showing signs of consciousness."_

Ogata helped him through the door. With the man's close proximity, the difference between their builds was more apparent. While Sai had always been slender, at this time he just looked emaciated; his bones were easily defined under his skin. Just looking at his thin arms made Sai sick.

Ogata glanced over at him, shutting the front door and pulling off his shoes. "Are you going to be okay? I'm sure we can find some decent help for you. Akira's been practically salivating at the chance to see you since we heard you woke up."

Sai chuckled, "I'm sure he's much too occupied to babysit me. It's his first year in junior high, isn't it?"

"He spends more time studying kifu than his schoolwork," Ogata said, moving into the kitchen. The apartment was bland, devoid of decoration and looking as if it had been abandoned. Unsurprising, given Sai's two-week absence - but the feeling of loneliness was new. The apartment lacked a life Sai hadn't realized it needed before.

"While in that coma," Sai began softly, sinking down onto the couch as Ogata made himself at home. "I had a strange dream."

"Yeah?" Ogata muttered distractedly, opening cabinet doors in search of tea.

"I was a ghost, and I came to...follow this boy," Sai continued. "He wasn't interested in Go at the beginning - but that changed. And he was so gifted, Seiji; he learned quickly, his memory was astounding, and he made the most surprising moves. I was honored to be the one to teach him."

Ogata poked his head out of the kitchenette after setting the teal to boil, raising his eyebrow at the other man. "Perhaps it was your subconscious telling you to finally pick up a student? You only have the entire Go Association pawing after you, you know."

Sai gave the man a weak smile, "Those who do not cringe before me are few and far between."

Ogata grunted in acknowledgement. Sai was the youngest Meijin to date, his natural talent and ability to evolve his skills unprecedented. Those who rose before him fell before his might, those who came after him could only watch in awe from afar. Sai was a force of nature that the Go world had been unprepared for, and now at the apex, Sai found himself trapped in a difficult spot. The only person that had ever been able to put up a decent fight had been the previous Meijin, Touya Kouyo - but even now Sai had begun to pass him. His strength on the goban frightened those who played him, and Sai could not teach a student too scared to even try and fight back.

_Hikaru would not cower._

The thought came unbidden and was so startling that Sai flinched back. The certainty, the longing that had flashed through his mind; it left his body paralyzed. The image of that boy - young man, when Sai had left him - was so vivid in his mind that Sai could practically see him. Ridiculous bangs dyed a gaudy shade of blonde, hazel eyes wide and mischievous, his lips stretched into a grin that seemed to dominate his entire face.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Ogata's voice broke Sai out of his trance. Blinking the image out of his mind's eye, Sai stared back at the proffered cup of tea. Amused, he took it from his friend with a small thanks. Ogata didn't comment further, though he did eye Sai oddly even as he took a seat next to him on the couch.

Sai had entered the professional Go world a few years after Ogata, but they only really ever talked when Sai became the "rival" of Ogata's teacher, Touya Kouyo. Unlike many others at the Institute, though, Ogata was not frightened by strength - but drawn to it. He hounded Sai at the Institute whenever he was there, and Sai was not averse to company; they struck up an odd sort of friendship that had both nothing and everything to do with their profession.

"So was this imaginary student of your's as solemn as Akira?" Ogata asked, interrupting the amiable silence.

The very idea of a solemn Hikaru made Sai giggle. "Not at all. He was very...vibrant. So much energy sometimes that half the time I was teaching him just to sit still for longer than 30 minutes," Sai mused warmly. "He had to be doing something, provoking someone - the boy didn't have one ounce of respect, I swear! - and we spent as much time screaming at each other as we did playing Go."

"Your 'ideal student' sounds like a pain," Ogata pointed out.

Sai smiled sadly to himself, "He was perfect."

* * *

 

Sai's return to the Go Institute was met with a mix of cheer and trepidation. For the short time he had been absent, those who fell to his might or felt they could never catch up believed they were given a respite. While he always had those opponents and acquaintances who were glad to see him back, there would always be those who were less than happy with his presence.

Sai hadn't let it bother him. He had contented himself with playing the game he loved, studying the game he loved, socializing with the few who could look at him as a person and not as a stepping stone. Now, however, the loneliness crushed down on him like an insurmountable weight.

He had not gone straight back to playing in matches; his health had not recovered far enough to allow his body to endure an hours-long match. He'd been granted a two-week leave to get back in shape, but after only a week in physical therapy, Sai began to feel out of place. He wasn't like the others in the center; his limbs were weak but they were there and unbroken, and he was not burdened with age or terrible diet.

Eventually, he opted out of physical therapy, instead preferring to take long walks and doing some light arm exercises. He could hold and place a stone without shaking now, but that still gave him two more free days to work with. Ogata came around almost every day - for a professional with a girlfriend, he sure had plenty of free time - but on this particular day he had a function to attend. This left Sai with no one but himself for company; even as an internationally-famous Go player, he hardly had any friends to speak of.

The apartment was going to drive him crazy. Sai was sure of it; the walls were devoid of any decoration, the entire flat void of sound, and the air felt stale. He fancied buying at least a houseplant, but didn't think he could invest in it emotionally enough to keep it alive.

He'd turned on every light to see if it could chase out the blandness, somehow, but it only seemed to illuminate everything he lacked. He didn't even have a TV - simply because he never watched it. There were some magazines on the table, all about Go, but for the most part the apartment looked as if nobody lived in it. Sai wondered if that was a bad sign.

_Even Seiji has fish,_ Sai mused. _Maybe I should get a pet?_

It'd probably die from Sai's inattentiveness within a week.

Sai dug through his closet, resigning himself to taking another aimless walk. He pulled his hair up into a ponytail; while he'd always kept it shoulder-length, now it was past his shoulder-blades. Before the accident, he had thought about getting it cut. Now, though, he wanted to grow it out - perhaps so he'd resemble the coma-version of himself? Sai couldn't quite place the reason why, just that he wanted that...connection.

Pulling on a pair of sweatpants and an otherwise bland shirt, he slipped on his jogging shoes and left his apartment. The air outside was crisp and fresh; even though the leaves were only just beginning to turn gold, the weather had a tendency to dip.

Sai enjoyed it, if only because autumn brought about the beautiful colors of warm gold and hazel. During his time with Hikaru, autumn almost seemed to bring out the boy's very spirit; a warm, enduring life that endured through the winter and would thrive in the spring. Autumn was like a promise, and Hikaru crunching through the dry leaves on the ground was proof of that promise.

Sai shook himself.

_I really need more to do,_ Sai mused self-deprecatingly. _Than obsessing over imaginary people._

And really, it was a sort of obsession Sai couldn't understand. In his dream, he'd been the teacher of Honinbou Shuusaku - _his idol._ (To Sai's later horror; he couldn't believe his subconscious could be so egotistical!) But instead of thinking about a true Go genius, he found himself enthralled in the memory of a young boy who hadn't even liked Go at the beginning.

Of course, that had all changed eventually - and Hikaru had proven himself to be gifted. Sai remembered Hikaru's games well; the way Hikaru played was something that Sai couldn't even fathom. The boy's mind worked in exciting ways, and when he thought about some of Hikaru's better games, Sai couldn't help but feel pleased. He could see some of his own moves in the boy's style but he could see Hikaru's own natural talent mixed in: that surprising play that left Hikaru's opponents baffled, the way Hikaru could read far enough ahead to spring traps that left even his betters stunned.

Really, his imagination was so unfair. Now that he'd imagined such a student for himself, Hikaru was really the only student Sai wanted. Reality was cruel.

* * *

 

"I hate kids," Ogata muttered for the umpteenth time.

Sai smiled awkwardly, giving the offended mother who just swept by them an apologetic look as she shot them a glare. Ogata didn't even notice, as irritated as he was; he looked seconds away from lighting up a cig, public smoking ban be damned. It was hard to blame the man, though, as he seemed to attract all of the complaining parents who had an issue with their child losing this-or-that game.

Both pros had been assigned to help at a small function - a Go tournament for young players. Sai always found the sight of serious, young Go players to be wonderful, but it was a sentiment he really couldn't share with Ogata. His friend's mood was not easily improved, especially since his latest girlfriend had dumped him unceremoniously only two days before. To be honest, Sai was actually impressed Ogata had yet to wring anyone's neck.

"These are the well-behaved kids, you know," Sai reminded him cheerfully.

Ogata sneered, "I'm never having a kid."

Sai chuckled. Ogata perked up when he noticed a familiar figure moving towards them, his expression falling into amused tolerance as the youth came to a stop before them with a polite smile and bow.

"Ah, Akira-kun!" Sai greeted, smiling brightly. He really had quite a soft spot for the boy; his rival was raising a fine young man that Sai knew would be one of the best Go players in modern times. The coma-version of the boy really did hold true to Touya Akira's character.

"Ogata-san, Fujiwara-sensei," Akira greeted politely. "Father told me you would be supervising this event..."

"We were forced to," Ogata cut in boredly.

Sai leaned in close to the younger male, smile playful, his long hair sliding over one shoulder. "Don't mind him, Akira-kun; he hasn't been able to smoke for the last three hours and the withdrawal symptoms are starting to kick in."

Ogata scowled at him. Akira blinked, unsure on how to respond politely; his indecisiveness made Sai smile. The boy really was too poised for his own good, and while that was a gift while playing Go, it left him awkward and stilted in situations outside of the game. In the dream-verse, Hikaru had been quite the blessing; he'd ignited a passion in Akira that Sai had yet to see in real life.

Sai would never doubt Akira's love for the game. It was obvious the boy loved it with all his heart and soul - but Go was a two-player game, and if Akira continued on as he was, that love would become stagnant and only pull the youth apart at the seams. Sai could predict this easily, since it was happening to him for a different reason.

"Are you doing well, Fujiwara-sensei?" Akira asked.

Sai nodded good-naturedly, "The doctors cleared me and I've already resumed matches. I was actually going to visit your father this Sunday; we haven't played in quite a while."

Akira visibly brightened, "Were you going to join Father's study group?"

Sai shook his head, smile dimming somewhat. "No - I just promised him a game as soon as I recovered."

The idea of joining a study group made Sai cringe inwardly. After being declined admission into the insei program on the basis of being too good, Sai had suffered quite the emotional blow when it came to dealing with people. By the time he'd gained momentum in the Go world, his fellow players felt no need to invite such a strong player to their study groups. Of course, Touya Kouyo had been the exception - but at that point, their rivalry was well-known and most members of the former Meijin's study group regarded him more as an unstoppable opponent rather than a fellow player. (Of course, the Meijin, Ogata, and Ashiwara were the exceptions; Kouyo saw Sai as his equal, Ogata saw him as the closest thing to a friend he had, and Ashiwara was just _Ashiwara.)_ Sai had declined Kouyo's invitations, which only seemed to make the barrier between him and other people that much bigger.

"What are you even doing here?" Ogata asked the boy.

"Father dropped by to see how things were going," Akira answered. "The manager accosted him as soon as he set foot in the building, though."

"He's probably complaining about you, Seiji," Sai giggled.

Ogata huffed, "Then maybe he should stop requesting me, the little shit."

" _Language,_ Seiji! There are _children_ present!" Sai squeaked, slapping his hands over Akira's ears. Akira looked ready to argue that - he was thirteen now! - but thought better of it and just frowned instead.

Ogata rolled his eyes. The man caught sight of another disgruntled parent approaching them, and smoothly veered away from the two males to intercept the mother. He knew very well why he'd been tapped to attend the event; while Sai was himself enough of a draw, being the top player in the Go world, he was terrible at dealing with people outside of the goban. Event organizers came to realize if they wanted high attendance courtesy of Sai, they'd have to take him in a package deal with Ogata Seiji - the one capable of keeping the crowds organized and civil.

"Are you enjoying your first year of junior high, Akira-kun?" Sai asked.

A brief expression of strain crossed the boy's features, but he nodded nonetheless. It occurred to Sai that in the dream-verse, the boy had been bullied. Was it also true of the reality?

_Or perhaps I am relying too much on my dream,_ Sai thought privately. _This really isn't healthy._

An idea occurred to Sai then. He was reluctant to ask, at first - this obsession was demented. But he was curious...

"Kaio is well-known for their Go club. Did you happen to see them at any of the tournaments?" Sai asked as casually as he could.

Akira nodded again, "When I was being shown around, they were hosting the school tournament. They were quite skilled."

He didn't sound very impressed, though. Sai felt a pang of pity for the boy; just like himself, Sai knew Akira would never get to join the insei program or anything similar. Much like Sai, Akira would probably grow up with an intense love for the game and nothing outside of it.

"Who did they face in the final round?" _Was it Haze?_ Sai stopped himself from asking that particular question, but the eagerness was practically audible. Akira cast him a questioning look, looking befuddled. Sai couldn't blame him - why would the current Meijin be interested in a junior high tournament? Sai certainly wasn't going to explain that his coma-induced dream had brought about a host of new fixations.

"Midoriyama, if I remember correctly," Akira answered. "Although Kaio won all three boards."

Sai tried not to look too disappointed. Judging by Akira's bemused expression, he'd probably failed.

* * *

 

"I wish Akira-kun had a rival," Sai stated quietly.

Touya Kouyo glanced over at the younger man, face studiously blank but to those that knew the man well, he seemed taken aback. Considering Sai had said this while they had been sharing a quiet cup of tea, Kouyo could not be faulted his surprise.

They'd finished their match two hours previous, finished discussing the game only thirty minutes prior, and just when Akiko had given the current Meijin a steaming cup of green tea, Sai broke the amiable silence with his statement.

Kouyo nodded, though he really didn't see where Sai was going with this conversation. "Akira would thrive if he had someone to compete with."

Compete with. Kouyo often worried about his son for this reason; all of Akira's peers were so below the boy's skill that Akira had given up looking. Everyone older was viewed as a stepping stone, someone to learn from - but not someone to compete with. Kouyo knew that listlessness well; he'd been trudging through the days until Sai had appeared.

Sai took a sip from his tea, eyes calculating. "I...I am thinking about taking a student."

A student. Kouyo didn't let his interest become too obvious, but he was definitely intrigued. Sai had never taken anyone under his wing and hadn't look inclined to doing so anytime soon. Then again, after the accident, Sai had changed. It was subtle, but it was there; as if the man was waiting for something.

If Sai could groom a rival for Akira, Kouyo didn't think he'd ever be able to thank the man enough.

* * *

 

Sai wanted a student.

He'd gone through the possibilities. He needed someone who wasn't a pro yet - a pro, no matter how low the _dan_ -level, was still too set in their style. Sai needed someone who could still be molded, whose style was still fluid, who would take advice without becoming indignant. That, of course, eliminated a good portion of people.

He'd raked over the name of the insei. He'd been startled to find quite a few familiar names - Isumi, Waya, Fukui, Nase. The sight had nearly caused his heart to stutter, and more often now, he began to question the truth of his dreams. While the pros who had been in his dreams he had all met beforehand, the insei were people he had never met. How could they exist outside of the dream-verse?

Why wasn't Hikaru real?

Sai kept thinking about the boy. He'd had to convince himself, many times, not go scouting around Haze or hover around what had been the Shindou home in his dream. The hope that Hikaru was real, however, continued to tease at his mind - especially at the sight of the insei names he both knew and didn't.

He'd gone to the insei institution - and _wow,_ that had caused quite a spectacle. It was like the insei didn't know whether they should flock to him or be awed at a distance. The teacher had decided for them by chasing them all back to their boards and ordering them to play games. Sai had wandered around just watching them play for awhile; some were talented, some were not, some fell somewhere in between.

He'd paused over Waya's game and tried not to look at the boy; he really was just as his dream had depicted. He seemed as star-struck as Sai imagined he'd be, however - which wouldn't be very good in a prospective student.

Fukui and Nase seemed to stumble whenever he passed them by, so Sai did not linger near them. The other students would get distracted by his presence, so much so that Sai began to feel guilty for even coming.

Isumi had more promise, and Sai could see himself helping the youth with his confidence - but knew that in the end, he'd inevitably end up comparing the youth to an imaginary boy with two-toned hair.

Sai left after apologizing to the teacher, feeling much less hopeful than he had been when he'd first started. Even if his prospective student wouldn't be Hikaru - _why couldn't he let him go?!_ \- that didn't mean there wasn't any talent left in the Go world that Sai could harvest.

_Perhaps I am setting the bar too high?_ Sai mused, tugging his scarf into a tighter hold. It was cold enough now that he could see his own breath in the air, and though the weather reports had said nothing about rain or snow, the sky looked overcast enough that Sai wondered if he should have brought an umbrella.

Sai couldn't see how he his criteria for a student was so hard to fill, though. He wasn't asking for Shuusaku, or even Akira-level skill; he just wanted a student that could keep up with his teachings, who could grow defiantly from defeat, who could challenge his equals and his betters with the same spirit that Sai felt most players lacked nowadays.

Sai knew what he was really looking for, though, and he hated himself all the more for it.

_I'm letting go,_ Sai vowed to himself. It had gotten ridiculous now; it's been almost three months since he'd awoken from that coma. He was letting a dream dominate his life now, and he was coming off the worse for wear because of it.

Tomorrow, he'd check out Kaio's Go club. Go club members were obviously interested enough in the game to pursue it, but malleable enough that Sai shouldn't have to worry about their resistance to his teachings. He'd just have to grit his teeth and bear it if his prospective student feared his strength, and eventually train it out of them. He'd done it for the boy in his dream, so surely he could do it in real life.

" _Dammit,_ Masaki - he was totally going to bite. You ruin fucking everything!"

Sai stopped abruptly. Eyes wide, something as simple as breathing suddenly became difficult. He didn't take a single step, didn't even move - too scared that he wouldn't be able to hear. The voice was too familiar yet completely foreign. The tone - irritated and exasperated, edging close to anger but not quite there - was something Sai had heard before.

"Stop bitching, Itsuka. He looked like the type who would stop halfway and not pay. You still haven't learned how to pick them?"

"Are you kidding me? He had a fucking Rolex on. I was going to take that chance."

The other voice was unfamiliar, but the first one - he knew it. He knew it as well as he knew himself, from a place where he'd drowned in the embrace of the reeds.

Slowly, Sai turned - too scared to hope but hoping nonetheless.

"Itsuka," one boy muttered - his hair was dyed completely blond and cut into a fashionable style. He looked a bit older than Isumi, but the way he held himself was completely different from the insei. The boy smiled at Sai after he'd noticed the man's gaze, and everything from the posture to the little grin looked utterly sultry. He tipped his head in Sai's direction at the younger boy's confused look.

Blond bangs, defiant of the rest of the naturally black hair, hung in front of stormy hazel eyes. Lips twisted into a small scowl, the owner glaring over at his companion. Tight jeans, a clean white jacket that fell to just above his knees, tanned skin - all of it was familiar.

All of it was wrong.

Shindou Hikaru met Sai's eyes.

Sai didn't know whether he should scream in horror or cry in happiness. The boy he'd dreamed about was real - very real, very alive, and very much authentic. His body seemed to remember he needed oxygen to live and breath was drawn, but the shock had settled over him so completely that Sai didn't notice.

Hikaru was _real._

The boy was alive, and out of the millions that lived in Japan, Sai had run across him. In his dreams, it had been fate that drew them together - so surely it had to be fate now. Just as Sai had vowed to give him up, Hikaru had appeared - in the flesh and with eyes on Sai. _Just as they should be._

The young boy looked him up and down. His eyes lingered on Sai's tailored suit; Sai figured he probably looked ridiculous. No matter how personally tailored the suits were, they always looked odd on him. His nails were cleanly-cut - the better to hold Go stones - and hazel eyes blinked in mild surprise at Sai's earrings. They were a new addition - which had Ogata nearly coughing up a lung in surprise when he saw them. Sai had gotten them after he'd awoken; a pair of sapphire studs that matched his hair and eyes.

Whatever Hikaru had been looking for, he apparently was satisfied by what he saw. The other youth seemed to melt into the background as Hikaru headed in Sai's direction, fading completely into the crowd as Hikaru drew closer and closer to the man who hadn't stopped gaping at him.

"Hey, mister," Hikaru greeted - the way he said it was completely wrong. Soft and sweet, like the fake smile that curled those lips. He ambled over to Sai, smooth with a grace that dream-Hikaru did not have, especially at thirteen. "Did you want some company?"

It didn't occur to Sai that he was being propositioned until Hikaru laid a hand on his arm.

* * *

 

Shindou Hikaru was surviving life without actually _living_ it.

Up until he was nine, his life had been just like any other kid his age; he went to school, he studied, he hung out with some friends that he'd easily forget as he progressed in life, and he stayed out of his parents' way. When his parents filed for divorce and his father had given full custody of Hikaru to his mother before fading out of his son's life completely, Hikaru had been hurt but he was forced to accept it as the natural course of life.

When his mother brought home her first boyfriend, Hikaru had not cared enough to get to know the man. When that man gambled away a good chunk of the settlement money from his mom's divorce, they'd been forced to leave the house Hikaru had grown up in and move into a small apartment with thin walls.

When his mother brought home her second boyfriend, Hikaru had been in his last year of elementary school. The apartment always smelled like booze and smokes, so Hikaru had learned to kill time outside. He used the money his mom gave him for lunch to fund his entertainment, then would sneak back home late at night to avoid seeing anyone.

When his mom's second boyfriend drank too much one night, he fell down the apartment stairs as he tried to storm out in an alcohol-fuelled rage and snapped his neck. Hikaru had to be the one to call the police that night, because his mother had been too busy drunkenly laughing. The cops never bothered to ask him if he felt safe with his mom - just as well, though, as Hikaru would lie to them anyway.

When Hikaru had graduated and gotten into Haze Junior High, his mother found a third boyfriend. She stopped giving Hikaru any money, even for food, so Hikaru began to pawn off things he found either at home or anything he discovered on the streets. One night, as he carried back to the apartment a purse he'd lifted from some girl who had been distracted making out with her boyfriend in the park, he ran into the high school girl who lived two doors down from him.

Arikawa Satomi wouldn't have noticed him, except that he'd been carrying around a Gucci handbag. She bought it for the half the price he could have sold it for, and then out of guilt for swindling a child more pitiful than her, she offered him a contact that could get him a job.

At twelve years old, Hikaru met Ohno Masaki. The other boy was five years older than him, with a dark look to his eyes and cruelty to his smile that Hikaru registered as dangerous. They'd met late at night in Shinjuku, under the sweltering heat of summer on the fourth day of June. Masaki had looked him up and down with a crooked smile, then asked him if he knew what kind of job he'd asked for.

Hikaru paused, thought about it briefly, then nodded. "How much is the pay?" was the only question Hikaru asked.

"This time, 60 thousand yen," Masaki answered. He turned and began to head off down the sidewalk, Hikaru trailing behind him. "After that it will be lower, but finding some more clientele shouldn't be a problem. How many were you planning on taking up?"

"It depends on the numbers," Hikaru answered. He should be able to afford food with this payment and not have to go to the extra effort of scavenging for things to pawn off. But he also wanted enough for some new clothes, as he'd hit another growth spurt and most of his outfits were too small now. There was this new handheld game system he wanted that one of the boys in his class had been boasting about, and he was thinking of dying his hair. "Probably at least five."

Masaki whistled. Somehow, he managed to make it sound condescending. "That might be a bit much for you, kid. I guess we'll see after the first."

Once they'd turned down another set of unfamiliar streets and the crowds had mostly thinned out, Masaki glanced back at him. "Aren't you curious about the first pick?"

Hikaru met his gaze evenly, managing not to look as terrified as he really felt. "Are you going to tell me?"

Masaki threw back his head and laughed raucously. "You're a weird kid. You got a name, brat?"

"Shi-"

"Not your real name, idiot," Masaki cut in. "You need a...nickname. Any ideas?"

Hikaru thought about it. "What time is it?"

Masaki blinked, taken aback. At Hikaru's serious look, he checked his wristwatch, "Almost 11:40."

"Might as well commemorate my first job," Hikaru mused. "I'm Itsuka(1)."

Masaki very nearly stumbled. Then, the teen let out one loud peal of laughter. Stifling his chuckles, the teen turned down another street. The crowds had all but disappeared, and on both sides of this unfamiliar road stood one small motel after another.

"Alright then, Itsuka," Masaki managed out between snickers. "The guy's name is Saotome. He's your common salaryman, but he paid good money to be the first. Mimi had you put down under 'Vanilla' so it should run pretty standard."

Hikaru tried not to snort at the mention of 'Mimi'. Is that what Satomi was going by?

"As the middleman, I get 20 percent of the cut. After that, if you meet someone outside my contacts, the money is all your's. Inside, it's the same rate," the teen continued.

Masaki stepped through the entrance of one of the motels. Hikaru hadn't caught the name, but the tacky decor and miserable appearance was pretty much identical to every other motel in the area. The teen waved at the pudgy man sitting at the front desk but didn't bother stopping; the man didn't seem to care, eyes flicking over the two boys before dismissing them.

"It's a three hour max. I'll be outside the door timing it," Masaki droned on. The tone was disaffected, as if he'd given this same speech before. He probably had, Hikaru mused. "There's no time-outs or stopping. Once you're in that room, you remain there for the next three hours. If you try to come out early, I'll toss your ass back in."

Masaki stopped in front of the room marked '106'. He turned away and faced Hikaru fully, giving the child a smile full of teeth. "Feel free to scream as much as you want, though. No one will mind."

Hikar considered his surroundings. _Too late to back out now,_ he thought. By the way Masaki was smiling at him, backing out didn't even seem to be an option. Taking his silence as acquiescence, Masaki knocked twice on the door before opening it, pushing Hikaru inside and following behind him.

"Ah, Masaki-kun," an older man greeted. He was unremarkable in all aspects; average height, average weight, with thin black hair and a bald spot in the back. His eyes were narrow and he had that sort of beleaguered, nervous air to him that reminded Hikaru of the businessmen he found sleeping on park benches.

"Saotome-san," Masaki greeted cordially. The air about the teen was casual, no matter how falsely-polite he spoke. It was obvious the younger male was in control of this entire meeting; Saotome looked like he'd start simpering any minute now. "This is Itsuka. Say hello, Itsuka-kun."

"Hello," Hikaru greeted softly. He wondered if he was supposed to act differently, but Masaki hadn't given him any Looks and Saotome was obviously entranced by the child. Hikaru tried not to feel sick - and was failing.

"Hello, Itsuka-kun," Saotome echoed with a wide smile.

"The payment, Saotome-san," Masaki reminded briskly, stepping in front of Hikaru. This helped to hide the brief flash of disgust that crossed the child's face. Saotome nodded with a nervous laugh, opening up his briefcase and pulling out a bulky yellow envelope. Masaki opened it and pulled out the cash, counting it with a professional's air. Once every note had been accounted for, he gave Saotome a smile and nodded.

"Three hours," Masaki chimed as he left. "I'll knock when the time's up."

The door closed behind the boy. Saotome looked at Hikaru with a sick parody of a smile, taking the child's hand and leading him further into the room.

Hikaru thought fleetingly of his mother's second boyfriend, laying in a tangle of limbs at the base of the stairs, head twisted at an unnatural angle, his eyes wide and unseeing, mouth open in a silent scream.

Masaki was right - he did scream, and no one cared.

* * *

 

Three months later and still partly under Masaki's tutelage, Hikaru had a decent set of customers. He'd dropped Saotome after the first time, and waited for other contacts of Masaki's to bite at fresh meat.

His first regular was a piano teacher named Amekura. He often wore a sad smile on his lips and tried to be gentle, to Masaki's never-ending amusement. The teen pegged the man as suicidal and told Hikaru to sweeten up to him and he might even get a cut of the man's belongings after he kicked the bucket, since he'd never married or had children.

His second regular was Yamaguchi, who insisted that Hikaru call him "Kappichi." He was emotional and prone to bursting into tears at the slightest provocation. It made Hikaru nervous, but the man paid him and bought him whatever he wanted.

Hikaru found his third regular without Masaki's help. He was a salaryman that had been stumbling around drunk one night. The man lost whatever inhibition had been keeping him in check and propositioned Hikaru himself when the boy had stared at him too long in consideration. The morning after, he told Hikaru his name was Kousaka and given the boy the money and his phone number.

Hikaru himself was getting better at picking up who would be interested and who wouldn't. The idea of propositioning an undercover cop still made him nervous, but all of Masaki's contacts were thoroughly checked-out and Hikaru figured as long as he declined invitations from sober men over a certain age, his chances of getting caught were lowered significantly.

Testing positive for STDs was an ever-present thought, and Masaki forced all those under his wing to take a monthly test at a discrete clinic. So far, Hikaru remained clean, and he'd even studied STD symptoms as an extra security. Even though many STDs - especially the deadly ones - didn't have obvious signs, it was still better than just going in blind.

When scouting for new customers independently, Hikaru would situate himself in the Shinjuku area, closer to Kabuki-cho so that people knew he was there for business. Here, Hikaru people-watched; if someone's eyes lingered on him too long, that meant interest. To guarantee that interest would actually mean something, Hikaru would catch their gaze. If they didn't look away, that meant that he had a pretty good chance.

He'd picked up a few men here and there with that technique, but those always dwindled back to one or two-nights stands (that he was paid for, of course). It was good way to make money whenever one of his regulars weren't around to be used, but sometimes it could be exhausting.

Sometimes, Masaki would follow him and idle around. Hikaru couldn't tell if the teen was pleased with his progress or irritated by it. Sometimes the teen would chase off prospective customers, other times he would clue the boy in to someone he had missed. In his own way, Masaki probably favored him - but that didn't stop him from being an utter bastard.

Just as Masaki chased away his second prospective customer of the night - _"He had a fucking Rolex!"_ \- and thoroughly irritated Hikaru, the teen motioned to someone Hikaru had only caught out of the corner of his eye.

The man was tall and lithe, skin pale as a porcelain doll's and framed by a mane of silky hair so dark it shined purple in the streetlights. He had on a gray overcoat left open over a finely-tailed suit of cream-color, with a plain silver scarf wrapped about his neck. A sapphire stud earring was pierced in each ear, somehow complimenting the man's tidy, beautiful appearance.

And he was staring right at Hikaru.

The man was openly ogling him. No one else seemed to notice, though, even as Hikaru moved forward and Masaki made himself scarce. His greetings seemed to fall on deaf ears, so Hikaru was surprised when the man jumped after Hikaru lightly touched the his arm.

"Are you alright, mister?" Hikaru asked, trying for sweet. He didn't really think he was any good at it, but usually the customers never noticed. Or maybe they just didn't care - Hikaru was never sure. "Are you cold?"

The man blinked, mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out. When the man's face began to redden in a vibrant blush, Hikaru started to worry; that wasn't the usual reaction. Had he - and Masaki - judged wrong?

_Please don't cause a scene,_ Hikaru begged mentally. He withdrew his hand, taking a hasty step back with a nervous smile. "Sorry - just worried, you know? You looked like you'd seen a ghost!"

The man seemed to choke on air.

"Anyway, I'll be going-"

"W-Wait!"

The man latched onto Hikaru's arm just as the boy turned around to leave. Hikaru didn't try to wrestle it free, stopping and turning back to the man with what he hoped was a normal smile. It kind of just felt like he was pulling his cheeks into an awkward position.

The man didn't seem to notice, staring intently at his face. After one full minute of this one-sided staring contest, Hikaru wondered if he should start worrying. "Um, mister...?"

The man continued staring at him for a moment, before seeming to come to some kind of decision. "I'm sorry, you just - you just surprised me, is all."

Hikaru nodded dumbly.

The man struggled with something internally, but forged on. "A-Are you free now? I would like some company."

_Ah_ \- so they had been right. This was the first looker Hikaru had scored, too. He supposed pedophiles really did come in all shapes and sizes. "Yeah, sure! I think we should find somewhere warm to go, though; you're looking a bit chilled."

The man nodded jerkily. Hikaru wondered if this would be the man's first time with someone like him. That made things both easier and harder; the first timers were easy to manipulate but harder to ditch. They had a tendency to latch onto their first experience that had caused Hikaru some grief once or twice before.

"I know this place near here," Hikaru offered. "They have good rates."

The man shook his head. "I'd prefer to go back to my apartment, if you don't mind."

How polite - that was new. And weird. Hikaru shrugged in acceptance. It wouldn't be the first time he'd go to a customer's place, and while that came with its own risks, he often came off with a better reward.

"What's your name?" Hikaru asked, trying to sound cheerful. "I'm Itsuka."

The man gave him a confused look, but Hikaru couldn't fathom why. "...I'm Sai. You don't have a last name, I-Itsuka-kun?"

Hikaru stared at him evenly, "I don't."

Sai seemed to shrink in on himself. For just a moment, Hikaru irrationally began to feel bad.

"Oh, I see," Sai murmured. He was sitting stiffly next to the boy on the subway, giving him the occasional glance as if trying to puzzle him out. Hikaru didn't think he was complicated enough to warrant that kind of look. He was a kid that sold himself for money, and all of the adults in his life had failed him - that pretty much summed him up. It was a story that matched almost all of his 'coworkers'.

"Your parents don't mind you staying out this late, I-Itsuka-kun?" Sai asked.

Hikaru didn't even blink as he answered, "They don't care."

He couldn't help but smirk at the man's disconcerted expression.

* * *

 

The apartment was unsurprisingly upscale. At this hour, there was no one around to see Hikaru shuffle into Sai's apartment. The boy glanced around, frowning at the empty space; for someone who could afford such fine clothes and a nice apartment, there was barely anything in the flat.

Hikaru sincerely hoped he hadn't gotten snatched by a faker. He'd heard stories about those people that pretended to be wealthy, wearing all of the hot brands and strutting around as if they owned the place, only to really spend every last bit of their paycheck to keep up appearances while they starved.

"Nice place," Hikaru commented off-handedly. "You a minimalist?"

Sai gave him a strained smile, "I pretty much live at work. I suppose I never really considered this place my home."

_Workaholic, huh?_ Hikaru could work with that. Giving the man a cute smile - he'd practiced it in the mirror and it worked like magic on most of the men he used it on - Hikaru cocked his head.

"So where's your bedroom, Sai-san?" Hikaru asked.

Within the 45-minute journey to this place, Hikaru had a loose idea of the kind of man who had picked him up. Definitely someone unused to people like Hikaru. He was almost naive, in a sense, and socially-awkward to top it off. He used far too much polite language compared to the average guy. This kind of innocent-like man would be more ensnared by a sweet but bold type; seductive but not outright slutty. Hikaru had to tread carefully, making sure not to push the man too far - but not going so easy so that Sai wasn't impressed.

Sai gave him an inscrutable look. With a sigh, the man pulled of his scarf and jacket, hanging them up in the closet and holding out his hand in Hikaru's direction. When the boy just stared back at him in incomprehension, Sai smiled - it was small, but it was genuine. Hikaru found himself shocked to the core.

"Your jacket," Sai stated, light amusement in his tone.

Hikaru slid his off. He considered stripping off the rest of his clothes, but Sai had already turned around to hang up his jacket, then walked off in the direction of the kitchenette. "I'm afraid I only have tea. Will that be okay?"

"Sure," Hikaru agreed easily enough.

Sai wasn't the first man to offer him refreshments. For most, it tended to be alcohol - tea was different, but not altogether strange. Hikaru took a seat on the sofa, giving the apartment another wide, more thorough look. It was practically bare - there wasn't even a TV - just a couch and matching coffee table, and in the corner there was a _goban_ with two closed _goke_ on top, accompanied by plush red seat cushions.

"You play Go, Sai-san?" Hikaru called out. Something crashed in response, and Hikaru could hear the frantic, hurried movement of quick cleaning.

"Y-Yes. Do you play, I-Itsuka-kun?"

Why did the man always stutter over his name? "No, I never really learned."

Before his parents divorced, Hikaru used to go over to his grandparents' house often. His grandfather had tried to teach him Go, but wasn't able to teach him anything more than the lines of the board and some of the basic rules before getting fed up with him. Hikaru supposed giving up on him was an inherited trait in the Shindou line.

Sai came out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs. In the unpolluted light of the apartment, Sai's beauty was that much more apparent; he had the type of delicate beauty all of the current male models would scramble after.

_Pity to waste those looks on a pedophile, _Hikaru mused absently, taking his cup with a soft thanks._ _

Sai smiled at him but didn't sit down. The man took only a small sip from his own mug before setting it on the coffee table, then moving over to the _goban_. There was a small sidetable nearby where Sai pulled out a clean rag, then began to calmly - and with a sort of elegance Hikaru had never seen before - wipe the top of the _goban_ clean.

Hikaru took a few cautious sips of tea before setting his mug down. If they waited any longer, Hikaru would start to feel anxious. This was a business transaction, not a date.

"A night is 20 thousand," Hikaru said. Sai stopped cleaning immediately, his back to Hikaru stiff and utterly still. "No kinks, no toys. I only do vanilla."

Sai's silence was unnerving.

Hikaru continued in a no-nonsense tone, trying not to be affected, "Payment first and no checks."

"I see," Sai finally said, so softly that it actually felt dangerous. The man got up and walked down the hall and through a doorway. Just as Hikaru began to wonder if he should follow the man or just leave, Sai came back.

"I hadn't known I'd meet you tonight, so this is all the cash I have on me," Sai explained, handing the boy a small stack of bills. It was only about five thousand, so Sai handed the boy a Rolex watch as well - Hikaru could recognize the authenticity, thanks to lengthy lessons from Masaki. The Rolex alone was more than double what Hikaru had asked for.

He'd had a few men try to offer him more money in exchange for more variation in his servies, but Hikaru had declined every time. He'd seen the aftermath of some of those variations and he never wanted to ended up like those people. It'd be expected of him someday, Hikaru knew - once Masaki was sick of him sticking in Vanilla. Hikaru just hoped he could leave the lifestyle before Masaki forced him into it.

"Vanilla only," Hikaru reminded Sai.

Sai stared back at him, and suddenly Hikaru understood the stiff movements and strange looks the man had been expressing all night. Pain, pity, and pure anguish practically radiated from those dark eyes. It was such a startling epiphany that Hikaru actually froze in shock.

"I do not want to have sex with you," Sai stated. It was low, but it was sure as steel. Hikaru couldn't manage to say anything in response; it was as if his throat had closed up.

Sai moved over to the _goban,_ taking a seat on one of the cushions with practiced ease. He was sitting in the formal _seiza_ style, looking tidy and comfortable in front of the board and eyes piercing straight into Hikaru.

"Please come over here," Sai ordered. It was not a request, no matter how the man worded it. "I will teach you how to play Go."

The idea was so ludicrous, Hikaru started laughing. Once he started, he found it hard to stop; he practically collapsed sideways, holding his sides with tears trying to stream down his face. Somewhere along the way, it had turned from hysterical to near-breakdown; Hikaru managed to restrain himself from from breaking into sobs in time.

This man paid him just under 80 thousand yen to teach him how to play an old man's game.

Sai was not laughing. He looked calm and expectant, sitting serenely and waiting for the boy to join him. Hikaru wiped the tears from his eyes, catching his breath as he lay sprawled over the couch. After a few minutes, the boy chuckled - it was a dark, jaded sound that didn't sound very cute at all. Sai didn't seem bothered by it, though.

"Alright then," Hikaru conceded. "It's your call. Whatever you want, Sai-san."

Hikaru took a seat on the other side of the goban, and set his destiny into motion.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading! :)

Comments and kudos are appreciated~!

 


	2. Spin the Thread

 

**A/N** : There's a pretty lengthy author's note at the end of the chapter. Please read it~   
**Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.  
**Pairings** : Ditto the last.  
**Warnings** : This chapter is especially dark. Some very horrible things are implied and pretty much explicitly-stated to have happened.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

_Spin the Thread_

* * *

 

Sai had forgotten how frustrating Hikaru could be. Even in the dreamverse, Hikaru had that special ability to vex anyone he met. After two years of constant companionship and Hikaru maturing, Sai had forgotten just how irritating it had been to get Hikaru to learn something he was never initially interested in.

"And if you can capture your opponent's stones in just one more move, it is called _atari,"_ Sai instructed, indicating to the empty adjacent spot on the board from where he had played an example. Hikaru was staring at the board, eyebrows furrowed, but Sai couldn't tell if that was because the boy was bored by being taught the game or perplexed by the man who sat across from him.

Sai had to remind himself to go slowly; he was to build Hikaru from the ground up. He couldn't even play a game with the boy - Hikaru knew none of the rules and only barely remembered how the lines of the board were counted. Sai knew he would have to go over the rules first, making sure Hikaru had a handle on them, then onto stone movements, capturing, styles... The basics first, then the skills.

"This is boring, Sai-san," Hikaru told the man frankly, after Sai had demonstrated capturing a stone. "I think I would actually prefer the sex now."

Sai glared at him over the goban, "Most certainly not, Itsuka-kun."

Hikaru gave a little sigh.

_Itsuka,_ Sai had to remind himself. Hikaru had given him a fake name and he could not just call the boy by his real one - that would alarm him. Sai had known, of course, that _"Itsuka"_ was a false name, a moniker worn by the boy while he was doing 'business'. Hikaru had not exactly hid the knowledge from him; refusing to give a surname and then choosing _'Fifth Day'._ Sai wondered what significance the fifth day of a month held for the boy, but he already had a vague idea and knew the truth would only sadden him.

Hikaru was a _child prostitute._ The knowledge made something unpleasant settle in Sai's heart, a dark anger that he had never felt before. What had gone wrong in this world for things to go this bad? The rest of Hikaru's generation seemed to be the same: Akira was still a lonely prodigy and the insei were still eager students. How had Hikaru ended up where Sai had found him?

_Is it my fault?_ Sai wondered. He looked over at the boy; Hikaru's hazel eyes were on the goban, looking bored but attentive. His blond bangs nearly shadowed his eyes - perhaps he needed a haircut soon - and his skin was blemish-less and tanned from the sun. He was skinnier than the Hikaru in the dreamverse, waif-like but not alarmingly so. Still, Hikaru had been baby-faced and healthy in the dreamverse; the one sitting before Sai slouched with a tiredness Hikaru had never had.

"I think that's enough for tonight," Sai stated suddenly. Hikaru looked like he'd pass out at any minute, and according to the clock, it was already past midnight. Sai shouldn't have kept the boy up so late. Belatedly, he wondered if Hikaru had any homework he had to do; Hazechuu was one of the schools that still had classes on Saturday.

Hikaru was openly staring at him, "But it's only been two hours..."

"And you won't learn anything when you look like you're about to fall over from exhaustion," Sai told him with an amused smile. "You can sleep on the couch, Itsuka-kun. I'll bring you a pillow and some blankets."

Sai left the room before Hikaru could say anything else, striding into his bedroom and opening the closet door. He kept spare blankets just in case, especially seeing as Ogata had a tendency to crash at his place after a bad break-up. Sai was reluctant to let Hikaru just go on traipsing out the door; it was already very late, and according to the boy, his parents didn't care about his whereabouts. Who knew what Hikaru could get caught up in? At least if he slept over at Sai's, the Meijin knew where he was.

Returning to his living room, he found Hikaru standing and staring nervously at the goban, looking unsure of himself. Sai set the blankets and pillow down on the couch, glancing over at the boy with a thoughtful frown. "I might have something for you to wear to bed, but it might be a bit too big..."

"S'okay," Hikaru refuted, looking over the blankets with a blank expression. "I can sleep in this."

"You have school tomorrow, do you not?" Sai asked, eyes widening at the thought. The boy was clearly wearing street clothes, and didn't appear to be carrying his uniform on him. Sai originally planned on (attempting) to cook Hikaru breakfast, but he might have to wake the boy up earlier than he intended to get him to school on time.

The look Hikaru gave Sai could only be described as condescending. "Yeah, probably - but I'm not going."

"But how will you learn?" Sai fretted.

Hikaru shrugged, unconcerned as he started to make himself comfortable on the couch. "I don't go to Saturday classes often. The teacher just chides me a little to make himself feel better but lets it go."

Sai couldn't support this - but for tomorrow, it would be convenient. He resolved to lecture the boy at a later date about his poor school attendance. For tomorrow, though, he could see about making Hikaru breakfast...and continuing their go lessons.

* * *

 

Waking up the day after the strange man had picked him up, Hikaru found himself sat at a table - that was littered with Go magazines, so obviously the man was obsessed with the game - and served a badly-charred omelet and watery rice. Sai had looked crestfallen at the breakfast even as he served it, which pulled oddly at Hikaru's heartstrings for reasons the boy couldn't fathom. Just before the man could take it away (probably while sobbing; he already had tears gathering in his dark eyes), Hikaru ate it and stubbornly ignored Sai's platitudes. It wasn't that bad, honestly; the eggs were a bit too salty and the rice was more like gruel, but it was edible and likely better than anything Hikaru could make.

They exchanged phone numbers after the meal. Hikaru had bought himself a phone shortly after his third job; Yamaguchi had offered him one of the more expensive ones but Hikaru needed a phone for business and personal use, and didn't quite trust a client with footing the bills. He found a cheap phone where he paid a monthly rate using a prepaid card; he could make calls and texts, but anything else was still beyond the limits of what he could afford.

Hikaru only had six numbers programmed into the phone. Four were customers: Amekura, Yamaguchi, Kousaka, and now Sai. The last two were his connections, Masaki and Satomi. His mother probably had a phone, but neither of them cared enough about the other to know. Even after getting into Haze and attending for almost a year now, Hikaru had yet to make any friends; he was absent often and the days he did attend, no one paid him much mind. He ate alone during lunch, spent breaks thinking up ways to convince customers to buy him the things he wanted, and left as soon as classes ended. To his classmates, Shindou Hikaru was a shadow; barely perceptible in the periphery.

The boy took off shortly after Sai explained capturing stones and the concept of eyes in Go. Hikaru wanted to do other things today, so Sai let him go with a sad smile and promise that he'd call soon. It wasn't until Hikaru had reached his home that he realized he didn't even know what the man's job was.

Late Saturday night, Hikaru had a missed call from Sai. He was spending time with Amekura, though, and didn't bother calling Sai back; the piano teacher had taken him to Ikebukuro for dinner. Sunday morning, after leaving Amekura's place another 20 thousand yen richer, he had another call from Sai.

"Hi, it's Itsuka~!" Hikaru greeted into the phone in a cheerful voice, before remembering this was the customer who supposedly wasn't interested in sex.

_"I-Itsuka-kun!"_ Sai's voice floated from the phone, sounding a mix of relieved and frustrated. _"Where were you?"_

"Out," Hikaru answered noncommittally. His other customers usually knew better than to ask questions like that but Hikaru had already filed away Sai as a 'special' case. He just didn't observe any of the proper etiquette pertaining to businesses Hikaru was involved in.

A short pause, and Hikaru could almost hear Sai's mind working through that response. _"I see,"_ the man said. It was in that same tone he used on Hikaru when the boy had told him his price tag. Hikaru was disgruntled to find it still sent a cold shiver down his spine.

_"Are you free today? I would like to see you,"_ Sai requested politely.

Hikaru thought about it. He'd originally intended on catching up on some of his homework assignments, seeing as neither Yamaguchi or Kousaka had called him up for company. Sai paid really well, though, even if he made Hikaru nervous with his unpredictability.

"Sure, when should I come over?" Hikaru agreed, keeping the cheer in his voice.

_"As soon as convenient for you,"_ Sai answered. _"Oh, and bring your homework. I'll help you."_

Sai hung up before Hikaru could respond. The boy was left staring at his phone, dumbfound.

* * *

 

To go back home - and narrowly avoid interacting with his mother, who had passed out on the couch - to pick up his homework, then get back to the subway to take him to Sai's part of town, then endure a short bus ride and longer walk, Hikaru had killed over an hour of time. He was grumpy - Sai had better reimburse him for all of that transportation money - but he forced a smile onto his lips as he knocked politely on the man's door.

Opening the door with a kind smile, Sai beckoned him inside. Hikaru shuffled in, and at Sai's urging, deposited his school materials on the table and followed the man into the kitchen. Something was boiling on the stove; the empty flavor packaging next to it labelled it as curry, the smell labelled it as the burnt remains of vegetables. Carrots, onions, and potatoes boiled from the golden mixture, the edges turned crisp from who-knows-what, and the curry sauce itself was more watery than thick.

"Dinner will be ready soon," Sai chirped cheerfully. "It's ready-made curry, so it shouldn't be too bad."

Hikaru choked down the urge to ask how the man managed to burn the vegetables while boiling them.

The curry was too watery and the spices were doing weird things to Hikaru's tongue, making it numb and tingle oddly whenever he took a sip of water. Sai was looking steadily more miserable with every bite, so Hikaru tried to look like he was enjoying it for the man's sake.

"Sorry," Sai apologized, cleaning up the plates. _I need to find more recipes!_ the pro cried internally. At this rate, he'd probably end up giving Hikaru food poisoning before he could teach him anything.

Hikaru shrugged, "It tasted fine, Sai-san."

"You can just call me 'Sai', Itsuka-kun," Sai said, starting to clean the dishes. "Go ahead and start on your homework. I'll get your payment after I finish cleaning these."

Hikaru eyed him for a moment before nodding. To be honest, Hikaru had no idea what the man was playing at; he'd encountered men who liked to set the mood, but it didn't take them _days_ to do so. Hikaru wondered if Sai was the type of man that liked to play pretend; perhaps he was hoping Hikaru would fall in love with him or something? Or maybe he used to have a kid around Hikaru's age that had passed away, and was living out some kind of fantasy using Hikaru?

_Too young,_ Hikaru observed. Even if Sai had a kid, there's no way that kid would be Hikaru's age. Besides, the man was so easily flustered and innocent - probably a virgin, too. That left the first idea, the 'romantic-fantasy' one. That was nauseating, but as long as Sai kept paying him, Hikaru could play his part. He watched the man dry off his hands before heading towards his bedroom.

Hikaru looked over his homework assignments. He hadn't started on any of them but he wasn't too worried about it. His grades had always ranged around average, which was quite impressive given how often he skipped class. Hikaru had a sharp memory that made it easy to recall information, if he could motivate himself into studying it first. He usually went to the bookstore once a week to read through a study guide; he'd never buy it, of course, but he skimmed through it to try and lift some of the information. It was easier than trying to decipher his teachers' lectures and definitely a time-saver compared to doing homework.

Hikaru wasn't shy about using his customers, either. Both Yamaguchi and Kousaka had computers that made it easy to look up information, while Amekura was well-versed in literature and didn't mind answering any of Hikaru's idle questions. He never outright did any of his homework while with them, but he could apply the new information to his tests or assignments.

"So how much homework do you have?" Sai asked brightly, handing Hikaru a small stack of bills. The boy deftly counted it - 30 thousand yen altogether. He supposed Sai started withdrawing money to pay him in full instead of handing off his belongings.

Hikaru looked over his assignments, "Math, science, and I have a book report due Tuesday."

Sai nodded, taking the seat adjacent to him and glancing over his math homework. "So for the first problem, we have to find the sine, cosine, and tangent..."

* * *

 

Sai went back into the kitchen to fix them a cup of tea. In only three hours, Hikaru had completed both his math and science assignments; it'd taken the Hikaru in Sai's dreamverse most of the evening to do the same amount. Now, working on the book report - and unsure how the boy was managing to write a report while the source material wasn't present - Sai left Hikaru alone.

This Hikaru was both different and similar to the one Sai knew in the dreamverse. Both shared an unyielding quality, a fire to their eyes that Sai knew would endure countless struggles. Their keen memory was a shared trait, as evidenced by Hikaru's ability to easily recall the mathematical formulas needed to solve problems. Their biting tongues were similar - mocking and challenging, headstrong to a degree that sometimes made Sai wince as if he were the one committing the wrong.

The differences were just as stark. Where dreamverse-Hikaru had been loud and belligerent, this Hikaru was careful with his words and wary of any move Sai made. Where the first Hikaru had been warm and trusting, if a bit arrogant, the second was distrustful and any ounce of warmth was carefully-constructed out of lies stretched into a fake smile. The Hikaru that Sai had known was vibrant and full of energy; the new one was tired to the very marrow of his bones and could barely hide the bitterness in his eyes.

It occurred to Sai that he was being wildly unfair. He expected this boy to be just like the one in his dreams - but how could that possibly be so? The Hikaru in his dreams would never have gotten involved in prostitution, would never look out at the world as some place where only the clever survive. This Hikaru hadn't been so fortunate - he hadn't been allowed the luxury of dreaming.

The idea made Sai grit his teeth. Where were Hikaru's parents? Why wasn't his mother watching him like a hawk, fretting over his grades and his hobbies - like that mother-hen in the dreamverse? Where was his father, who only airily supported his son in whatever Hikaru chose but never laid a hand on his own child?

Why was Hikaru suffering?

Sai opened his fridge, glancing through the contents; there was barely anything. A half-gallon of milk - that he hadn't checked the expiration date of, and it's been in there for a suspiciously long while - a jar of minced garlic, a near-empty carton of eggs, and a few vegetables. The freezer proved to be just as sparse, with a mystery fish wrapped in paper and a few boxes of instant-mix dinner.

Feeding himself had never been problematic. Sai survived off whatever he could get at the convenience store if he was home, otherwise he would eat out at restaurants near the Go institute or get dragged off by Ogata. Trying to feed another person, however, was turning out to be quite troubling; Sai had discovered he was simply terrible at cooking and he certainly wasn't going to let Hikaru run rampant in his kitchen, even if the boy was somewhat more mature.

He'd have to make a grocery list for himself. He would need to pick up some snacks suitable for kids Hikaru's age; he doubted the boy would enjoy the same crackers that Sai was fond of, which was the only thing he had in surplus. _Soda and juice, perhaps I should buy fruit as well,_ Sai mused in an internal inventory. He'd have to invest in a cooking class, or at the very least, a cookbook - he couldn't have Hikaru subsisting off of convenience store foods. He was a growing boy, thus he needed more nutrients than a store-packaged bentou could provide.

_I feel like a parent,_ Sai thought suddenly. The idea made him freeze, hovering over the two cups of steaming hot tea he had just poured. In the dreamverse, he and Hikaru had been friends; Hikaru had been his student, yes, but he treated Sai as his equal in standing and was never one to leash his mouth. Sai had been just as frank and expressive, so he never found the boy discourteous. As a ghost, it hadn't mattered to Sai how Hikaru treated him as long as they could play Go.

This Hikaru, however, called him with a stiff _'-san'_ and held a great distance between himself and Sai. He saw Sai as an adult, a figure of authority - a means of survival. Sai himself had even begun to treat this Hikaru differently; thinking of homework instead of teaching games, of Hikaru's health and well-being to a much higher degree than he had in the dreamverse.

Then again, this Hikaru seemed to a need it a whole lot more. The dreamverse Hikaru had been immature but had supportive family and friends to fall back on; this Hikaru needed protection and someone to rely on far more than he needed a fun friend he could learn Go from.

_This is the reality now,_ Sai mused solemnly. _We do not have the luxury of developing a friendship. I have to mean something completely different to Hikaru here._

And first, he would have to earn Hikaru's trust. He needed the boy to tell him his real name.

"Sai-san, I'm done," Hikaru called out from the living room.

Sai pulled a smile onto his lips - not difficult; just hearing Hikaru's voice tended to make him happy - as he took the two mugs of tea into the other room. Hikaru was already picking up his schoolwork; all of the assignments had his name conspicuously absent, as the boy wouldn't label them until he was at school or home. Sai placed one mug in front of Hikaru, which the boy accepted with a small thanks. Sai re-took his adjacent seat, sipping from his own cup meditatively.

"We left off at learning eyes, didn't we?" Sai mused aloud. "That leaves the rule of Ko, then maybe we can start a learning game."

Hikaru was eyeing him over the steam, calculating and silent. Sai didn't let it bother him; patience would win this battle. He would not gain Hikaru's trust overnight, and likely not for a long while - at the very least, not until the boy started seeing him less as a customer and more as a mentor. Sai had to play his hand carefully in this stage; monopolizing Hikaru's time would make the boy nervous, but it also meant that Hikaru had less time to prostitute himself. Sai had used the price Hikaru had asked as his basis for comparing to others, and as long as he paid significantly more for Hikaru's time, the boy wouldn't stray from him.

"What kind of learning game?" Hikaru asked, small smirk on his face.

Sai shot him a very pointed look; Hikaru knew what kind of game, even if his tone suggested otherwise. " _Shidougo;_ you're going to be slow at first, as you're just learning, but eventually you'll be able to place stones without much trouble. I need to teach you how to hold a stone correctly, too, come to think of it..."

Hikaru settled back into his seat, apparently satisfied by Sai's vocal confirmation that the relationship was maintaining perfectly wholesome and platonic. Sai's smile grew slightly, but he hid it behind another sip of tea.

"So, Itsuka-kun, tell me what you remember about the difference between having one eye and having two eyes when surrounded..."

* * *

 

Hikaru could never conservatively label his life as anything resembling monotonous. Even then, though, his life had a certain... _rhythm_ to it that Hikaru could follow. Go to school, go home, leave home if mom and her latest man are there, kill time around town with a customer, bug Masaki for more clients, go people-watching; these were the sorts of things Hikaru could expect on any given day.

Sai went and broke that rhythm.

The man called him almost every other day and Hikaru found himself spending more time with Sai than any of his other three customers _combined._ The man paid him well - and Hikaru was really starting to wonder where Sai was getting all of his money. When he'd asked Sai what his job was, the man had given him a beautific smile and said he played Go. Hikaru wasn't even sure what to make of that.

Sunday was a great day to relax for most of his classmates, but for Hikaru, it only meant he had a whole day to spend working. He had to set up a preparation routine that took the better part of an hour - courtesy of Satomi's instructions.

_"No jewel is beautiful without first being polished,"_ Masaki had told him once. He'd been flipping through a magazine as he slouched atop the futon that was Hikaru's bed. Satomi had practically dragged the younger boy into the adjacent bathroom, holding a bag full of skin care items and cosmetics.

Hikaru was cute - but he didn't shine like some of the other boys. His skin had a healthy tan which Hikaru personally preferred, even if Satomi made the case that fair-skinned boys tended to sell better. His skin was smooth, for the most part, but he'd had an active childhood and had his fair share of callouses. His hair was a unique fashion statement ( _"We can sell that," Masaki chuckled._ ) but held a dull sheen and some split ends. He had a nice face but he dressed too frumpy; that's fine for the average boy, but for the job, Hikaru had to well-kept. During the first few jobs, it was okay, but if Hikaru wanted to do well, he had to take care of what he was selling - and he was selling _himself._

Hikaru's morning routine took well over an hour, prompting him to wake early just to have enough time to get ready. He started by washing his face with warm water; he groped around the area of the sink before his fingers alighted upon the familiar jar of facial cleanser. He applied it generously to his face with practiced ease, washing it off a moment later with cold water. Next, he applied the toner; it smelled like green tea, supposedly, and was a distinctly off-shade of white, but it kept his skin an even tone for a cheap price.

After the toner dried, Hikaru shifted through the cupboard behind the mirror, where he'd left a small tube of skin moisturizer he'd lifted from Satomi. They had the same soft skin type, luckily, and the girl tolerated his sticky fingers so long as he didn't abuse the privilege.

_I'll have to moisturize on Wednesday,_ Hikaru mused, staring at his reflection.

Styling hair was little trouble, as Hikaru had opted for a more natural and less stylized look, keeping his dyed bangs but otherwise only brushing the tangles out every morning. He'd switched out his shampoo for a more expensive, salon-like brand that left the strands feeling soft and kept the hair undamaged. Satomi had taken a pair of scissors to his hair early on and snipped off the dead ends.

Hikaru scarcely ever used cosmetics. He knew that for his current age, he couldn't pull them off quite yet, leaving him with a more natural look. He plucked his eyebrows into a thinner, lightly-curved shape that gave him a prettier, tidy appearance. He made sure his nails were trimmed evenly before applying a single layer of nail shiner to them, repeating the process with his toenails. He applied unscented body lotion to every available patch of skin, using a brand that was less oily than most to keep him looking fresh and clean. He swabbed his ears every morning, and brushed his teeth twice in the same hour - once when he got up, then again before he left.

Picking the appropriate attire was both enjoyable and frustrating. Before he'd been...employed, his clothes consisted of shirts and pants a size or two too small for him, always out-of-style and dully-colored. He hadn't been very popular in his elementary school for that very reason. Once he'd gotten the funds to buy his own clothing, Hikaru found fashion appealing to his inner ego; he'd spent most of his leisure money (spare money he personally set aside, after his other expenses were accounted for and paid) on clothes, and if a client took him out shopping, it was clothes that Hikaru would inevitably be drawn to.

Hikaru knew he should stick to clothes that were cheap and sturdy. But some part of him - the child had that had never gotten to express itself, the boy that couldn't even afford his own food without resorting to drastic measures - wanted something rich and high-class, something that he could only dream of having before. Sometimes he wanted clothes that made heads turn, or something simple and elegant - but all of it expensive.

Hikaru would be meeting up with Amekura today. (Surprisingly, Sai hadn't called him.) The man preferred less colorful outfits, so Hikaru knew he'd have to dress appropriately. He decided on a pair of stonewashed jeans and dark green button-up with a black, long-sleeved undershirt. It was simple and understated, exactly the kind of tone that Hikaru knew Amekura liked.

Hikaru's personal fashion tastes varied. Some days he liked bright colors, or clashing patterns, or even something as simple as he wore right now. He liked having accessories - bracelets, rings, necklaces - and even intended to grow out his hair a bit so he could use some of the hair accessories he'd recently seen being popularized by famous actors and musicians.

Saving money was a foreign concept to Hikaru. He'd spent years just trying to survive day-to-day, and it was a hard habit to break. He made sure he could keep himself fed if it was a slow season, and that he could pay the phone bill and keep up on his school expenses. Buying a new school uniform and school supplies was a pain, but he managed to stay afloat. (It helped that Kousaka liked seeing him in uniform, the creep.) His mother was only good for keeping a roof over his head, but chances were he'd spend the night with a customer anyway.

Hikaru didn't really think about what he'd be doing one, five, or ten years from the present moment. As far as he was concerned, his future was extremely limited; he likely wouldn't go to high school (he wouldn't be able to afford it), but at least then he would be at a legal age to pick up a more respectable job. He didn't know if he could let go of his current one, because in the midst of a recession, getting paid about 30,000 yen a night was a better salary than working at the usual convenience store.

Then again, stocking shelves was definitely more preferable than having stranger's hands all over him. And staying up all night tending to the graveyard-shift crowd by supplying their every food and beverage need was better than trying to scald himself with hot water, _wondering if he could ever wash the filth off._

After nearly four months, Hikaru could safely say he never could.

* * *

 

"Itsuka-kun," Amekura greeted softly, coming to a stop before the boy. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders and wide eyes, of fair complexion and with hair that he let fall to about chin-length, soft with slight waves. He was attractive, really, and would be very popular with women - if that's where his tastes laid.

Hikaru pasted a bright smile to his lips, standing a little straighter. "Amekura-san - right on time, as always," the boy teased lightly.

They had met through Masaki, although Hikaru had no idea who Amekura's favorite was before him. None of the others boys had mentioned the man - unlike Yamaguchi, who was widely known by their entire group - and Masaki had even given the man full-confidence after the first two times Hikaru had been his. Amekura was soft-spoken and he made of point of paying above what was asked (although nowhere near Sai's level), so Hikaru could admit he preferred the man to either Yamaguchi or Kousaka.

"You wanted to go shopping today, ne, Itsuka-kun?" Amekura asked, as the two began walking. Hikaru had let slip that he was in sore need of a winter wardrobe to his customers (Sai excluded, because Hikaru was still trying to figure out how far he could push him) and Amekura was the first to come calling. They'd agreed to meet up in Harajuku, as Hikaru preferred the fashion stores in this area.

Amekura was upper middle-class. As he lived alone, his salary from teaching was more than enough for him and his living expenses. Unlike Kousaka - who spent more time at his office than out of it, and only had enough time at home to assault Hikaru before paying him the required fee and sending him off. Yamaguchi was the son of a politician and was as corrupt as they come, so even though he could afford a lot, Hikaru was wary of asking for more.

Hikaru always found that shopping with a customer was weird. He hated going with Yamaguchi, as he was expected to act a certain way while in the man's company and it was tiresome doing that outside of the man's home. With Amekura, it was relatively easy but somewhat strained; Hikaru knew he couldn't act like how he really was, but at the same time, he didn't know what was expected of him. Some store employees think he's Amekura's son, or his little brother, or his cousin or something; Amekura tended to just laugh it off and explain nothing.

Shopping took the better part of four hours through twelve stores. Amekura was practically buried under the mound of bags and boxes, although he looked perfectly unruffled and even slightly amused. Three new pairs of shoes, two jackets, and an assortment of fashionable pants and shirts to go with it; Hikaru would catch some of the high school-aged girls eyeing him enviously as Amekura paid for everything. Hikaru doubted they'd be so jealous if they knew what he had to do for all of it.

They returned to Amekura's apartment, where Hikaru spent half an hour sorting through his purchases as Amekura tidied up and ordered sushi for dinner. Hikaru would have to funnel out the clothing; taking all of it back home at once would be too much trouble. He'd take back maybe only half and leave the other half at Amekura's place to get later. The man seemed to like having some of Hikaru's things over at his place, for some reason that Hikaru preferred not to delve into too deeply.

The sushi arrived courtesy of a rambunctious but polite teen. The youth was around Masaki's age but lacked the other's jaded eyes and sharp smile. Hikaru couldn't quite keep the bitter jealousy from welling up as Amekura paid the teen, eyeing the bills dispassionately. To be able to paid for such simple services as food delivery - Hikaru could only imagine such a kind lifestyle.

The sushi was delicious - nothing less than the best for his favorite. Amekura ate quietly, making small comments here and there as Hikaru lightly chattered between bites. Hikaru made up half of the things he told the man - friends who did amusing things, innocuous events funny in hindsight - and tried to keep the sarcastic and bitter side to himself hidden behind his lies. He'd learned this act from one of the other boys in his line of work; Chikara was only two years older than Hikaru, with a knack for picking up the strangest customers. Hikaru had learned that playing a role for a customer guaranteed their continued patronage from the boy and he made sure to play his act accordingly.

"You've been hard to get into contact with lately, Itsuka-kun," Amekura stated, small smile on his lips as he watched the boy finish off the last of the sushi. The man was nursing a cold can of beer, although he'd only given Hikaru a can of soda. "Has school been keeping you busy?"

Was the man purposely pretending that Hikaru didn't have other customers? Hikaru could play along, "I'm learning Go, actually."

Well, he was being _paid_ to learn Go, and there was just something about the game and the man teaching it that Hikaru couldn't help but get interested in. Sai was clearly in love with the game and that love showed through with every lesson taught and every game played between them. Hikaru was slowly picking up speed in placing stones, although holding the stones correctly took him the better part of two weeks to learn and he'd lost his grip more times than he dared count. Sai was never deterred, always patiently waiting and gently correcting Hikaru if necessary.

The games they played weren't even worthy of the word; it was more like Hikaru was being lead through a series of movements guided by Sai. It could barely be called _shidougo_ at this stage, and the few times where Hikaru was allowed to play freely, he was just effortlessly crushed despite the myriad of stones he had been given for a handicap. It was both frustrating and disheartening, but Sai always looked so _pleased_ with his progress that Hikaru didn't let it get to him.

"Go?" Amekura echoed, dark eyes wide in pure surprise. Hikaru couldn't fault him for that; not only was Go something that had fallen out of fashion for the younger generation, it was also like Hikaru's antithesis. Composed and dignified, subtle and conservative - everything Hikaru was not. This fact was not lost on Hikaru.

Sai didn't even seem to care. He had Hikaru solving _tsumego_ problems every time they met as a warm-up, followed by a game of _shidougo_ that took far longer than Hikaru thought it would. Sai would then spend the next two hours picking apart every move to discuss with the boy, pointing out his weaknesses. Hikaru couldn't find it in himself to be indignant or even indifferent; Sai was excited about what he was teaching, and that enthusiasm was infectious. Hikaru found himself reluctantly drawn in, paying rapt attention and even discussing some of his own thoughts on moves.

Sai did not, even once, touch Hikaru. Sometimes Hikaru would test that boundary, trying to see if Sai really was true. He'd once snuck up behind Sai, wrapping his arms around the man's slender waist. (Amekura liked this particular move; it hinted at an intimacy that the piano teacher preferred to have.) Sai had went absolutely still, and after a moment, kindly asked Hikaru to let go.

When Sai had been attempting to fix dinner for the sixth time - some kind of stir fried noodle that turned out to be difficult to chew and too sour - Hikaru had tried to peck Sai on the cheek. The man had practically thrown himself back, violet eyes wide as saucers, and ended up banging his head against the cupboard and knocking over some of the ingredients left out on the counter. He'd flailed and blushed for a good five minutes, stuttering over an admonishment as he tried to tidy up everything that had fallen to the floor. Hikaru had watched him silently the entire time, a perplexed expression on his face.

Sai really didn't seem to be interested in Hikaru for any intimate purpose. This just made the man seem even weirder; who picks up prostitutes in order to teach them some old board game?

_Am I his charity case?_ Hikaru wondered to himself. His pride sizzled at the thought - but at this point, he didn't have much of that either. Still, if Sai just wanted to have a good conscience, why couldn't he just donate to charity like everyone else?

Amekura laid a hand on his shoulder, leaning in close.

_Back to work,_ Hikaru shook himself out of his thoughts. He couldn't afford to get distracted now, especially by strange men obsessed with board games.

* * *

 

The interview with Go Weekly had been a success, or so Sai had been told by everyone from Inoue to the Go Institute's official PR manager. He should probably invest in a manager - who knew being Meijin could be so popularized? - but Sai wouldn't know where to find one, and that was just more money wasted. He would have to save up every last yen coin to make sure he'd have enough to keep Hikaru at his side.

When he wasn't playing Go or spending time at the Go Institute, Sai found his way to the public library. Psychological books on victims of child abuse and neglect, victims of sexual abuse, raising a child - he was starting to get looks torn between curious and pitying form the librarians now - took up two entire aisles by themselves. Sai tried to find the most pertinent and read through them, but was wary of checking any out in case Hikaru discovered them at his apartment. He didn't think the boy would appreciate any of Sai's efforts to help.

Monopolizing Hikaru's time was easy enough. He made a habit of calling Hikaru almost every other day at the same time - conveniently after school officially ended - and asking for his company. Hikaru had yet to decline, as Sai had set up a routine for them now: homework, _tsumego_ problems, dinner, _shidougo,_ and then discussion. He tried to get the boy to sleep over as often as possible, leery of letting Hikaru wander off late at night and not trusting his home environment at all. Hikaru usually did - especially if Sai threw in another small sum of money - but some days he would just give Sai these _looks,_ as if wondering if Sai was actually real, before declining and traipsing off.

It took every ounce of self-control Sai had not to force his hand or keep the boy under lock-and-key. Just knowing that on those nights when Hikaru didn't stay with him, he was likely off with some disgusting monster that-

Sai's eyes closed in frustration, holding the book in a bruising grip. It was too early to start making demands of Hikaru, as he still hadn't told Sai his real name. Sai could only do the most basic of things for the boy: feed him, teach him, and shelter him. It was hard enough trying to convince Hikaru that he was willing to do all of that and more for virtually nothing. Sometimes, Sai worried that Hikaru treated learning Go as just another job he had to do to please the customer.

Then he'd catch a move or two here or there during their _shidougo_ lessons, or hear some stray comment the boy would make during their discussion that would cement in the pro's mind that he was doing the right thing. The wonder in Hikaru's voice, that small bit of happiness he could see in those familiar eyes whenever Sai would compliment one of his moves - that passion was there. It was just Sai's job to awaken it.

* * *

 

It rained for most of Friday. Hikaru had been half-expecting a call from Sai, as the man had been silent almost all week, but no such call came. He tried to recall if he'd upset the man recently but couldn't think of anything that would set the even-tempered man off. Sai was patient to a fault and only ever became vexed if Hikaru made a move that could be considered inappropriate.

By the late afternoon, Hikaru had only received a text from Yamaguchi complaining about how lonely he was. As Sai didn't appear to want to companionship - _seriously, what the hell happened?_ \- and he could do with some more money, Hikaru had sent a text back to the man offering up his company. Yamaguchi had eagerly agreed and ordered Hikaru to meet him by the Shinjuku train station.

Hikaru quickly trekked home, changing out of his uniform and into street attire. Yamaguchi was sensitive and unnerving; he preferred to see Hikaru as some pure and innocent boy that he could defile. With this in mind, Hikaru donned a pair of simple blue jeans and a white sweater with little in the way of accessories.

Hikaru had been Yamaguchi's favorite for a little over a month now, although the man was well-known among the escort circle for his fickle tastes. Men and women, adults and children - Yamaguchi had tried them all. He was the most worrisome of Hikaru's clientele, but he paid well and would surely move on to his next fancy soon enough. Hikaru just had to stick it out a little longer.

Yamaguchi greeted him in front of the station with a giant hug and wide grin. Some women nearby tittered at the display - likely thinking the man to simply be an over-affectionate relative - as Yamaguchi whisked him away for some light shopping. The man was only a few centimeters shorter than Amekura, with a more solid build and average features. His hair was short, crew-cut and as dark as his eyes.

Shopping for clothes with Yamaguchi was the worst, Hikaru knew. The man didn't care what Hikaru wanted to wear, he only cared about what he wanted to see Hikaru in. That was why Hikaru tried to stick with electronics when shopping with Yamaguchi, but there were just some days he couldn't get away with it.

Three outfits later - all looking far too demure and innocent for Hikaru's liking - Yamaguchi treated him to a lavish dinner. Dessert was a sundae that Hikaru took his time savoring, ignoring the way Yamaguchi watched him with growing interest.

The hotel Yamaguchi escorted him to was more upscale than usual, but it mattered little as Hikaru was lead to a room on the 16th floor. Yamaguchi appeared to have checked in before he'd met with Hikaru, as he already had the card key and the lights of the room were already on as they entered.

"Ah - you're early, Yuuji!" Yamaguchi crowed in delight.

Hikaru finally caught sight of the tall man reclined into one of the armchairs, sipping at a glass of red wine as dark eyes idly swept over Hikaru. He was tall and lithe, with a sharp nose and narrow eyes set in a bland face. He looked to be about Yamaguchi's age, dressed in a suit similar to Yamaguchi's - high-class and neat.

"Itsuka-kun, this is my friend Yuuji," Yamaguchi gushed, pushing the child forward. Hikaru was hesitant, mind racing at the implications of another person added to this gathering.

"I see Ryuusei wasn't exaggerating," the other man mused, smiling in a way that made Hikaru want to flee. "You are quite the treasure, Itsuka-kun."

He was still under Vanilla, Hikaru was sure of it. Masaki or Satomi would have told him if he'd been changed. The label implied only the most basic of services, and of those services, it was only to be one-on-one. A third person wasn't allowed; that escalated into the Caramel category, where more than one was the standard. That's where Chikara was, and Hikaru had been told some of the things that the Caramel clients had done to the boy. That category wasn't something Hikaru could tolerate.

Hikaru froze, eyes wide as he took in Yuuji's advancing footsteps. "Vanilla," Hikaru reminded. "I'm under Vanilla - this is violating the terms of agreement!"

Yuuji chuckled, crouching down to look Hikaru in the eye, "Not at all. This will be just like any other time, Itsuka-kun - we both know what Vanilla entails. And you'll be paid double - isn't that good?"

"Right!" Yamaguchi exclaimed, shuffling over to the desk. Two small stacks of bills sat side by side, which Yamaguchi picked up and handed over to Hikaru to count. The boy did so tentatively, both men watching him to make sure of the amount before Yamaguchi placed them back on the desk. "See? Sixty-thousand yen isn't bad for one night, right? And you just get to relax and enjoy it!"

The money was tempting.

Hikaru took a nervous step back but ended up bumping into Yamaguchi. The man wasn't deterred, settling a hand on each shoulder of the boy and applying light pressure. The smile on his lips widened into a near-delirious grin, "Don't be scared, Itsuka-kun! This will be _fun."_

* * *

 

Sai, frankly put, had been put through hell this week. With the Pro Exams taking place and finding out Touya Akira would be taking them this time, Sai was just trying to keep the reporters at bay as they hounded him through the Institute with their questions. ( _Are you nervous about the former Meijin's son? Is seeing Touya Akira taking the exams making you want to pick up a student or two? They'd heard rumors about him going to visit the insei - is it true?_ ) He'd been asked to attend a Children's Go Tournament from Monday through Wednesday, had to be present for the exams for all of Thursday and Friday, and then had no time to check on Hikaru as Ogata's new girlfriend turned out to be a Sai-fan and was unashamedly trying to hook up with the current Meijin in front of her boyfriend.

He'd left Hikaru a few messages and sent a few texts late Friday night, but there still had yet to be a response. Now, as Saturday morning dawned and Sai tried to ready himself for another day of watching Touya Akira blow through the Pro Exams unhindered, the Meijin tried to collect his thoughts.

This schedule was hectic. Things would settle down again once the Pro Exams ended, but then the cycle would re-start with the Shin Shodan games. Hikaru had yet to open up, only just barely starting to relax minutely around the man. Picking through the boy's masks was another challenge altogether, especially with such a warring viewpoint of Hikaru courtesy of the dreamverse. The only genuine thing that Hikaru ever seemed to display regularly was bitterness.

Sai sighed, running his hands through his hair. He was an affectionate person by nature, but he always had to keep a restraint on himself when around Hikaru. The boy would surely misinterpret any sign of affection as intimacy, and if he ever saw Sai as one of those disgusting men that he usually serviced, he'd be landed back at square one with only the smallest sliver of a chance at redemption.

Sai glanced out the window with a frown. The rain was pouring extra hard at this early hour; he'd have to remember to dig the umbrella out of the closet before he went traipsing out the door. He idly wondered if Hikaru had an umbrella, if the boy had bothered to go to school today, if he was solving any of the _tsumego_ problems in the workbook Sai had given him in his free time.

Imagining Hikaru in school was a novel thought. When he'd imagined himself to be a ghost, the Hikaru there was hardly attentive and quick to nap; the idea that the Hikaru in the reality would do the same made Sai giggle. With those sharp eyes and that jaded outlook, Sai supposed it'd be a miracle if the boy had any friends at all.

The thought made Sai's blood turn ice-cold. Obviously Hikaru's family situation was terrible, to say the least - but if he had not one single friend...

It explained the look that haunted the boy's eyes whenever he thought Sai wasn't watching him. That lonely, bitter, _agonized_ look that crossed those eyes when lips weren't pulled into a facsimile of a smile. The notion that this Hikaru shared any similarities to the warm, vibrant one of his dreams was laughable; the idea that he may have been the same, at any point, before being twisted into the cynical youth of the present infuriated Sai.

Hikaru used to have a smile brighter than the sun; now it was as dark as the void between stars.

A soft knock on the front door interrupted his thoughts. That was probably a good thing, as he was slowly but surely working himself up into a frenzy over Hikaru; he'd been tempted to ring the child up just to check on him. If he carried on this way, he'd likely be speeding over to Hikaru's school soon just to make sure the boy had an umbrella.

Opening the door, dark eyes widened at the sight of the figure standing nervously on the other side. Sai practically slammed the door open, hands reaching out - before just as suddenly freezing when the other male flinched back.

Sai's arms dropped back to his sides, but he couldn't stop the trembling even if he tried. "H-Itsuka-kun," Sai managed out of a dry throat.

The boy looked up at him through his bangs. He looked unkempt; his clothes were wrinkled and seemingly pulled on at the last minute, he was soaked to the bone, and - what had made Sai's heart leap right out of his chest - there was a bruise forming on the left side of his face, from the cheekbone to the tip of his lips.

"Sorry," Hikaru apologized; his voice was even and somewhat cheerful, given with a small smile that made Sai's heart twist. "Your place is closer than the station, and it was raining really hard-"

"No, no, it's fine!" Sai said, stepping aside to let the child in. Hikaru strode in, pulling off his sneakers and walking a few more steps inside to stand in the living room. Sai shut the door and followed him in, violet eyes sweeping over the small figure as if he could see the injuries through the clothing.

"May I use your shower?" Hikaru asked. "I don't want to catch a cold. You can join me, if you like."

"I will not," Sai stated instantly. He thanked the gods above that his voice was even. "But you can use the shower. I'll prepare a towel and clothes for you."

Hkaru gave him another dead-eyed smile, "Sai-san is so considerate."

Sai left Hikaru to take a shower, leaving a towel in the bathroom before setting out to find something the boy could wear. While Sai was slender, he still wasn't a child's size; the closest thing he could find to Hikaru's size were a pair of sweatpants with a tie that could hopefully tighten around Hikaru's waist, and a plain black tee that he'd gotten for morning walks after he awoke in the hospital.

He went back into the bathroom, intent on setting them where Hikaru could see them, but couldn't stop himself from glancing over at the child. Hikaru hadn't started the shower yet, having just undressed and stood only in his boxers as he stared at the knobs of Sai's shower in consideration. He didn't turn around or say anything as Sai entered, but his posture stiffened near-imperceptibly.

Sai didn't see it; he was too busy staring at the marks that littered Hikaru's body. A vast majority were bite marks; an adult's jaw, judging by the size, and so deep that they left dark red teeth impressions and smears of blood. Hickeys were dusted about here and there, and it was obvious the marks continued on past the boxers. A set of nail marks were scratched onto Hikaru's sides, as if someone had grabbed him by the waist hard enough to draw blood.

Sai let out a choked sound as tears gathered in his eyes. Hikaru first looked at him over his shoulder, eyes as hard as diamonds, before turning around completely. Hikaru's front was, if possible, even worse; bite marks and hickeys meshed together, dried blood marring tanned skin and tainting the entire area. Bruises encircled his upper arms and his hips, finger-like impressions that left little to the imagination.

Hikaru looked so small and frail then - a child's body, littered with marks no child should bare.

Sai couldn't take it. He pivoted and dashed out of the bathroom, down the hall and into the living room. The rain was thundering against the windows, echoing the loud pounding of Sai's heart as he trembled from head to toe as emotions flitted and twisted inside him. Revulsion and fury fought for dominance in his heart, but pure anguish won out in the end. Sai crumpled to the floor, hand over his mouth in a useless gesture of restraint as he sobbed.

_Hikaru was- Hikaru was-_

Soft footsteps padded down the hall but Sai couldn't hear them through his heaving. A shadow fell over his back before his guest crouched down next to him, a gentle weight settling against his back.

"Sai-san," Hikaru began, soft and sweet and so broken that Sai couldn't even guess the depths. "Am I really so pitiful that you have to cry for me like this?"

Sai had to cry for Hikaru - if only because the boy would never cry for himself.

* * *

 

  
**A/N** :

 

On Go: Hikaru is in the midst of learning. He's uber-beginner at the moment - at the level where he'd be crushed on NetGo, really. He is going to learn, over time, but right now he's not even at canon-Hikaru's level. This Hikaru doesn't even have a love for the game, just a sort of fascination with it.

 

First off, Sai cannot be Hikaru's Insta-Fix. You do not just find an abused child, pick them up, and instantly they recover. It does not work that way and Sai knows at least that much. Sai is trying to work in steps (e.g. getting Hikaru to tell Sai his real name is a sign of developing trust), but this is a slow, trying process. Sai knows he only has a very limited control/influence over Hikaru at the moment, and that their relationship is as coldly professional as it can get. Essentially-kidnapping Hikaru would only damage him psychologically, especially by a man who is, in Hikaru's mindset, another customer. Calling the Japanese-equivalent of Child Protective Services would likely lose him contact with Hikaru and Sai isn't willing to take that risk, either.

 

On Sai's breakdown: Sai knows that Hikaru is a child prostitute, but he didn't get the full-impact of such an idea until he saw the evidence on Hikaru - making the situation much more real than he was emotionally or mentally ready for.

 

On Hikaru's "Job": Prostitute mixed with paid dating. For Hikaru, the sex part is always but his customers may or may not take him out on dates. It is also ranked by services provided: Vanilla (the most basic), Caramel, Toffee, Choco, then Espresso. I won't go into the exact details of each rank unless the story requires it.

 

On Hikaru: Child prostitution, at least in my eyes, is essentially rape. Hikaru is suffering a severe case of neglect from his family, as well as sexual abuse from others. I am not one for melodrama, but this is a very serious issue and will not be glossed over for the sake of making everything seem happy. Hikaru is psychologically and physically abused (in one way or another) on a daily basis; no one just recovers from that the moment a stranger shows even a bit of kindness. The recovery process will be slow, weaving throughout the entire story, and it will at no one point be instantaneous. I just cannot stand rape-fics where the victim instantly recovers thanks to True Love - that is complete bullshit. Hikaru is going to be haunted by his experiences for a very long time, and a support system will have to be slowly built just so he can hang on.

 

On the Abuse: Honestly, this is likely going to be the only chapter where Hikaru's job is so explicitly shown. I needed Sai (and you readers) to understand the sheer brutality of Hikaru's situation. This lays the foundation for exactly what Hikaru is recovering from and how, eventually, he and Sai will develop a relationship. I do not intend to focus exclusively on the abuse itself. As one of my readers perfectly summarized, "What's interesting about stories featuring abuse are the effects it has on the characters, the aftermath and how it changes the character growth, not the actual depictions of the abuse."

 


	3. Heart's Thimble

 

  
**A/N** : You guys are so awesome! The reader response was great - thank you so much!

  
**Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.

  
**Pairings** : Ditto the last.

  
**Warnings** : Implications of horrible things. Ditto the other chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

_Heart's Thimble_

* * *

 

Ogata would not describe himself as egotistical. If pushed into defining himself, he could concede that he was _intense;_ the way he played was not gentle in the slightest, his moves resonating with a ruthless, sharp edge that mirrored the look in his eyes during a match. Ogata tended to hold others with aloof contempt unless they proved themselves to be more than what they appeared. He disdained his own generation of players for being so weak, unable to compete with their predecessors before being swallowed up by those climbing up behind them.

Sai, as always, was the exception. He is the star of the Go world in every way: bright enough to illuminate both the beauty and the mystery, but too far away to quite reach. Ogata was interested in strength, however, regardless of whether or not he could match it; he was drawn to Sai as the man rose through the ranks unhindered, violet eyes alight and wielding a hand nigh-undefeatable. That strength alienated Sai from his peers, in the same way Ogata's disdain did to his own.

Ogata couldn't quite recall his and Sai's first meeting. All he could remember about getting to know the man more personally was being irritated that, even for being such a brilliant Go player, Sai approached everything with childish naiveté and delight. Mornings spent at the Go Institute involved Ogata scowling into his coffee as Sai chattered at him, seemingly taking his grunts and biting remarks as appropriate conversation responses. Late nights were dedicated to games that Ogata always lost, or stumbling around in an alcohol-induced haze with only Sai to guide him back to a safe place to collapse.

They were friends, even if the word sometimes got stuck in Ogata's throat. (Sai, of course, was only too happy to proclaim it.) And if that made Ogata's heart skip a beat, it was only because he was getting too old for such flowery bullshit. He did know Sai well enough to recognize that the man was as lonely as Ogata was, though, even if he was so wholly dedicated to their profession. Sai worked in a predictable routine outside of the goban, which made him easier to get along with, in Ogata's opinion.

Sai was breaking that pattern now.

"I'm sorry," Sai said, violet eyes downcast but hardened with resolve. "But I cannot have anyone over at this time."

Ogata rose an eyebrow, hiding his surprise and growing suspicion behind a long drag of his cigarette. "You have a woman over or something?"

Very briefly, something dark flashed through the other pro's eyes before pale skin flushed and violet eyes settled on Ogata's own pair of sharp brown. "I do not," Sai replied. A novelty - he actually sounded vaguely disdainful of the very idea. Something like hope battered at the heart all of Ogata's ex-girlfriends swore he didn't have, but he ignored it. "I just can't have anyone over for now."

"You don't have to apologize," Ogata refuted gruffly. "It's your place, not a community center. So what if it's closer than my house and more convenient for games, even though we haven't played in-"

" _Seiji,_ " Sai interrupted with a soft, warning tone, his stance uncompromising. Ogata took a longer drag, letting an uncomfortable silence settle between them. Sai was looking at him, partially pained but mostly resolute. Ogata matched that look with his own glare, all while trying to convince himself that he _wasn't_ sulking like a teenage girl whose boyfriend was ignoring her. Ogata Seiji did _not_ sulk.

Sai sighed, a heavy sound given with slumping shoulders. Ogata wondered if that meant he won, but his heart only twisted in guilt at the sight.

"I'm sorry, Seiji," Sai said again, voice weary. "But please - I need more time."

Ogata almost wanted to ask for what, but the look in those familiar violet eyes muted his words before they could even leave his throat. Instead, he crushed the smoking ash of his cigarette with the heel of his shoe, leaving a black smear against the pavement of the sidewalk.

* * *

 

Sai stepped into his apartment, balancing two orders of ramen and convenience store-drinks and snacks in his arms. "Itsuka-kun?" he called out into the dimly-lit recesses of his apartment, toeing off his shoes at the entryway. He moved over to the dining table to put down his burdens, casting a look back over to the hallway where a smaller figure slowly emerged into the light.

"Welcome home," was delivered in an amused tone. Hikaru's eyes swept over Sai and the food, then back over the rest of the apartment as if to make sure nothing had changed. Sai gave him a bright smile that was mostly real in response, returning from the kitchenette with two bowls and matching chopsticks.

Hikaru joined him at the table with slow, measured steps; his eyes were sharp as they took into account every move Sai made. Sai was just as careful with his own gestures: no personal touching, no sudden moves, and if he moved in Hikaru's general direction, he made sure the boy knew his reason beforehand. It wasn't quite like walking on eggshells - it was more like being watched by a predatory animal who was ready to slice him to pieces should he startle it.

"I brought ramen," Sai started cheerfully. He poured a section of steamed noodles in both bowls, followed by the vegetables, then the broth. He left the styrofoam box full of chicken and pork at the side, not wanting to presume the boys' tastes. Hikaru sat down, picking up some pieces of the chicken to add to his soup with Sai doing the same.

"I love ramen," Hikaru stated brightly. Sai couldn't tell if he was being honest, though; the boy's eyes held that same laughing quality to them that made the pro wonder if he was at the butt of some internal joke.

"It's not very healthy but once in awhile won't hurt," Sai mused between bites. Hikaru gave him this strange little smile before beginning to eat, so the Go player had no chance to decipher what it could possibly mean.

Sai's eyes lingered over the boy as they quietly ate. It had only been two days since Hikaru had come to him in the pouring rain, and already his movements had smoothed out into a predator's grace. Yesterday, his movements had been stuttered and cringing, hindered by the swath of bandages Sai had wrapped him in.

The risk of infection was too great. Sai knew enough about the risk of untreated injuries to not let Hikaru act as if his body weren't bearing the damage of a monster. After _certain_ activities were presumably left uncleaned, followed by a run through polluted rain - who knew how many dangerous germs had slipped into those scratches? Fortunately, Sai's medical supplies were never left void; between the anti-bacterial spray and reams of gauze, Hikaru had smelled like disinfectant and resembled someone who'd been in a body-wide surgery.

Hikaru had called it overkill but didn't protest. The boy likely appreciated the concern, or at the very least the treatment; he probably wouldn't have done much more than slap a few band-aids on after trying to scrub it clean with soap.

"You play Go as your job?" Hikaru asked, finishing off the last of his noodles. Sai nodded, popping open the bottle of melon-lime soda after arranging a small-scale wall of soda choices in front of the boy. Hikaru cocked his head in question, half-smile on his lips as he plucked a bottle of strawberry _ramune_ from the beverage line. "So you teach it or something?"

"Not quite," Sai refuted gently. "I play Go professionally. _Yes,_ you can play it professionally for money," he continued with a smile, cutting off Hikaru's question before it could even begin. The boy only blinked in response.

"How?" Hikaru asked.

It was Sai's turn to be confused. How? How else? "Well, we have ranks... Then there are official matches, to see if you can advance up into the next rank. There are also title holders, and, um, tournaments... It's all very official."

Hikaru's expression relaxed back into amusement. "That was a terrible description of your job, Sai-san. I guess all of your students are lucky that you're better at explaining how it's played."

Of course the first definitively sincere comment he'd get from the boy would be a back-handed compliment. This didn't make Sai any less pleased though.

Sai paused in thought, giving Hikaru a strange look. "I don't have any students except for you," he stated.

Hikaru quirked an eyebrow, "What, Go professionals can't take up students?"

"They can. It's actually expected for the higher-level players to take on groups of students," Sai deferred.

"So now you're pretty high-ranking, Sai-san?" Hikaru questioned.

Sai shook his head, thinking it over. Even if he told the boy his title, Hikaru surely wouldn't recognize it; and that would lead to a whole host of explanations that the boy likely wouldn't be interested in hearing quite yet. "I've been in the upper ranks for awhile now, but I suppose I just never felt the need to take any students. I-" _I was waiting for you._ "-proved myself wrong when I first saw you."

The strange look returned to Hikaru's eyes, accompanied by a sardonic smile. "That's not what most men who first see me think, you know."

Sai flinched.

Hikaru's gaze bored into the man for a long moment, quiet tension filling the air. Hikaru wasn't ruffled by it in the slightest, but it was taking all of the willpower Sai had to stifle his quivering at the memory. Fury and anguish rocked through the Go professional as the boy looked at him, the bandages wrapped around his body peeking out from under the collar of the too-large adult shirt he wore.

"You're weird," Hikaru proclaimed. The sureness in his voice prompted Sai to gape; for just a moment, it felt as if the coma-version of Hikaru had spoken to him. "A go-obsessed weirdo who picks up people from the street to teach Go. That's a dangerous hobby, Sai-san."

"You're the only one," Sai interjected.

Hikaru's eyes darkened. "And that's why you're so weird, Sai-san. Unless you're looking, you won't be able to see me, you know? To everyone else, I'm not really there," Hikaru's eyes held a far-away look, a smile playing across his lips as if he were thinking of something pleasant. "I'm not supposed to exist. Something like me shouldn't happen, but there I am - and no one wants to see that, so they look away and pretend I'm not there. It's so funny-"

Hikaru stopped, expression morphing into surprise at the sight of tears running down his companion's face. Sai didn't bother with wiping them away, knew it would be a useless endeavor and instead focused on making himself as silent as possible. His head was bent downward, long strands of hair obscuring his face from the boy's view and sliding past his shoulders.

"You cry a lot, Sai-san," Hikaru reproached, sounding almost exasperated. Gentle hands slid through Sai's hair, tilting the man's head up in order to meet violet eyes. "You cried when you saw the marks on me, but then you treated them and bandaged them - even though your hands were shaking so bad that it took you three times to wrap them correctly. You let me - knowing what I am and what I do - sleep in your bed as you take the couch, you pay to teach me a game that I'm no good at, you leave me alone in this nice apartment as you go to work, even though I could have robbed you of whatever you have in this place, you buy me dinner and then cry for me again."

Hikaru pulled away, drawing out the long strands of hair as they threaded through his fingers. "In short, Sai-san - _you're strange,"_ Hikaru slouched forward in his seat. "And it just occurred to me that I've been spending the last two days with a weirdo like you for absolutely no reason."

Sai's tears stopped, and he rubbed away the wet tracks they had made over his face with the sleeve of his shirt. He took a moment to compose himself as Hikaru continued to grumble about wasted time, only catching the boy's attention when he began to pick up their dishes.

"Then let's play a game after I clean this up," Sai suggested. "Go is all the reason needed."

"...Weirdo."

* * *

 

Sai's apartment was awfully dull when the man wasn't home. The only entertainment Hikaru had was the tsumego workbooks Sai had left him, or the bookshelf-full of Honinbou Shuusaku's completed kifu collection. Considering he had already gone through about five tsumego workbooks - he'd be dreaming about Go, he just _knew_ it - that left him either staring at kifu he didn't fully understand or watching the shadows play across the bare walls.

He'd been raiding Sai's closet for three days now, trying to find clothing that he didn't find lacking in taste to wear. Sai's fashion was horrendously bland, and if he had to wear one more plain shirt matched with sweatpants, Hikaru was going to scream. He didn't think Sai would appreciate the fact that the one thing Hikaru chose to have a breakdown over was clothes.

Hikaru didn't know what Sai could be doing for hours a day when all he did was play Go professionally. Perhaps it was different if he had to teach, but according to the man, his only student was Hikaru. ( _That_ had been shocking; _why him?)_ Sai also came home at the same time every night, like he had nothing better to do than spend time with Hikaru.

Hikaru knew he wasn't favorable company; he was sarcastic and bitter, and he made Sai cry so often that Hikaru actually began to feel bad about it. Not to mention he was a complete burden - Sai methodically changed his bandages every night, re-applying the disinfectant with more confidence. Hikaru himself became less suspicious each time as Sai's hands never wavered from their task and the man's eyes never held that same gleam of interest his other customers had whenever they saw his exposed flesh.

More often than not, Hikaru began to wonder what exactly Sai was seeing when he looked at him. When his mother looked at him, she saw the beginning of everything that went wrong in her life; when Amekura or his other customers looked at him, they saw a good time; when Masaki looked at him, he saw potential profit; but what did Sai see?

_"I proved myself wrong when I first saw you."_

What had Sai seen when he first met him on the street? Something so pitiful that even he could save it? Something he couldn't fully understand, but maybe it was worth saving? What exactly was _'Itsuka'_ to Sai?

Something from Sai's bedroom began to sing.

It took Hikaru a moment to recognize the tune of his cellphone's ringer, so he nearly missed the call as he bounded back into the darkened hall and through the doorway, stumbling past the bed and groping for the source of the sound in a dusk-lit room. He flipped it open just before the last ring, falling back onto the bed after glimpsing the caller ID.

"Yo, Masaki-san!" Hikaru greeted into the phone.

_"Itsuka,"_ came the amused tone. _"Where the hell have you been, you little shit? I haven't seen you hanging around Shinjuku recently."_

Hikaru scratched the tip of his nose, scrunching it slightly as the movement pulled at the bandages wrapped around his upper arm. "I'm a busy guy," Hikaru offered blandly.

_"Yeah, I bet,"_ Masaki scoffed. _"Busy enough that Amekura actually contacted **me** in order to get in touch with **you**. You're not replying to his calls and he wants to see you this week."_

Hikaru had been ignoring the man's messages. It wasn't that he completely disliked the man, as there had to be something to the fact that Amekura had been given full-confidence whereas Yamaguchi still had to go through Masaki to get to Hikaru. Still, Hikaru had been enjoying spending time with Sai, even if the man was the weirdest person he'd ever met.

_"I didn't give him full-confidence to you just for him to re-route through me, dammit,"_ Masaki continued on waspishly. _"If you lose Amekura, your rating might go down."_

"I can't see anyone right now," Hikaru rebuffed, not wanting to hear Masaki nag at him for losing customers. "I saw Yamaguchi a few days ago-"

_"What? I didn't set that up-"_

"He contacted me directly. I thought it was going to be the usual, but he-" Hikaru paused, wincing as he remembered. "-He fucked me up pretty bad. I'm gonna need at least two weeks to get back into better condition."

There was silence on the other end as the older boy digested this information. Hikaru knew he wasn't imagining the chill that seeped from the other side. He threw an arm over his eyes as he waited, obscuring the darkening room from his vision. The bed was soft - almost sinfully so - and the sheets were still tossed up from when Hikaru had gotten up that morning. The room was just as bare as the rest of the apartment, with only a closet full of dull clothes and a plastic plant situated in the far corner, as if some afterthought to decoration. It didn't match the man who occupied it at all, which was a shame; Sai was far more lively and interesting than his room belied.

_"You shouldn't have gone."_

The corner of Hikaru's lips quirked up in a smirk. "I shouldn't have," Hikaru agreed.

_"Take the two weeks to recover. You're dropping Yamaguchi, and you owe me 65 percent from whatever you got that night-"_

Hikaru's eyes widened at the outrageous cut. " _Sixty-five-"_

_"THEN DON'T START MEETING WITH THE CUSTOMERS I DON'T APPROVE OF, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"_ Masaki roared into the speaker.

Hikaru was quiet, letting the other male regain his equilibrium. This was business; nothing more, nothing less. Sometimes the 'company' took more than they should, but that was life for you. Hikaru knew enough about how the world worked that his protestations would be outright ignored, if not met with violence.

_"What happened with Yamaguchi?"_ Masaki finally asked. It was not out of concern.

Hikaru readjusted his grip on the phone, brushing one hand over his chest as he mused over the damage. The scratches were scabbing over nicely and the bruises were starting to fade, especially under Sai's obsessive treatment. "He didn't hold back."

_"Come in tonight. I need to see for myself."_

Hikaru winced. That was the last thing he wanted to do; Masaki was disconcertingly observant. If one looked closely enough, it was obvious the bite marks adorning Hikaru's body were made by two different people. If Hikaru managed to get through a Caramel encounter, Masaki might think he was ready to take it on as his usual. Hikaru didn't think he'd _ever_ be ready for Caramel service.

_"Itsuka. You're coming in."_ Masaki's tone brooked no argument.

"I'll be there," Hikaru murmured. He hung up without bothering to to say a goodbye.

Sai came home that night to a thank-you note on the table and an empty apartment.

* * *

 

The place didn't have an official name, as far as Hikaru knew; it had been christened with the moniker of 'The Gate' by those who had to walk through its doors. Given the place's services, something more inappropriate - perhaps "Candyshop" - would have been better, but the nickname held a more subjective meaning. Hikaru personally found it to be the gateway to Hell.

The place was two stories tall, the first story dedicated to a front desk obscured by panleled wood and glass, looking more like an office than expected. The secretary at the desk - a middle-aged woman with graying hair held in a tight bun - eyed him shrewdly as he passed her, going up the staircase sectioned off to the left without a second glance.

The second floor had more flooring than its downstairs counterpart, divided into three rooms. The smallest was an office where a weary man worked, shuffling through documents and incessantly typing information into his computer. The second room was a kitchen barely furnished, with a few chairs no one ever elected to sit in accompanied by a refrigerator that creaked every time it opened and shelves lined equally with outdated food and dust.

The third room was the largest by far, the walls lined with couches beaten with age. The flooring was red carpet, trampled on by so many feet that it had already dulled to burgundy. A single chandelier missing nearly all its ornaments hung from the ceiling, the only source of illumination in the room full of stale air. The smell of smoke wafted out and seeped into the floor, the walls, and the furniture. The windows were masked by heavy, off-white drapery that featured moth-eaten holes and the occasional splotch of dusty gray.

Masaki was lounging on one couch alone, scrolling through something on his cellphone as he kept one eye peeled on the door. As this was the height of business hour, the room was mostly deserted; a boy younger than Hikaru was perched on a corner sofa, knees held close to a thin chest as he stared out at the room with haunted eyes. A couple of high school-aged girls were on the far left, huddled together and giggling intermittently despite the otherwise silent room.

"Damn," Masaki sneered, pulling his gaze away from his phone as his eyes landed on Hikaru - or, more precisely, on the bruise stained across his cheek. "He really did fuck you up."

One of the girls tittered, leaning forward sedately as she gave Hikaru a grin full of teeth. A broken pair of heels lay at her bare feet, and she had that glazed look to her eyes that signified she wasn't all there anymore. "We're _always_ fucked," she giggled openly and unashamedly, throwing her arms open as if to motion to a crowd of people that should have been present. Hikaru knew that if he drew close enough, he'd be able to see the needle marks on her arms.

"Shut up, bitch, no one was talking to you," Masaki cut back with a dark look. The girl just giggled again, leaning back into her friend's embrace to smile blearily at the ceiling. Masaki hopped to his feet, stalking towards Hikaru once the younger boy drew to a stop in the center of the room. "Let me see the rest," Masaki ordered.

Hikaru pulled off his shirt with only brief hesitation. Static caused by the fabric sliding over and off his skin drew strands of hair to cling to his face, which he brushed off in slight irritation. He'd divested himself of the bandages before leaving Sai's place, not wanting his movements to be hindered as he returned to The Gate. The scratches had scabbed over and thinned by this point, while the bruises had lightened to a dark tan, and the bite marks were no longer indents in his skin but noticeable impressions. Masaki's eyes criticized each mark with a professional's precision, moving Hikaru this way and that for a better view.

The boy on the couch started crying, and Hikaru realized he was sporting similar marks - only his were far more severe, if the sodden bandages wrapped around his thin arms were any indication.

"Shut the fuck up, Sora!" Masaki snapped. The young boy slapped his hands over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the sound, cutting off his cries but unable to cease his trembling. Hikaru looked away from the sight just as Masaki glared down at him.

"You didn't say anything about Yamaguchi having a friend." The tone was flat, not quite accusative - but it didn't need to be.

Hikaru's heart thudded painfully in his chest. "I'm not Caramel," he retorted softly. He'd repeat it until his tongue fell off, if he had to; there was no way he was going to risk ascension.

Masaki snorted, throwing Hikaru back his shirt and watching with hard eyes as the younger boy pulled it back on. If Hikaru ever had to describe Masaki's eyes, the only description he felt was applicable would be 'cold'; everything about the older boy was so impossibly jaded that sometimes, it made even Hikaru doubt his own humanity. He knew he was nothing more than merchandise to Masaki, and slowly, he was starting to feel like that was all he was - even to himself.

"How much did he pay you?" Masaki asked.

"Forty thousand," Hikaru answered.

Masaki stared at him for a moment - a look Hikaru evenly matched - before sighing. Then he punched Hikaru straight on his bruised cheek.

Hikaru's small cry of pain was nothing compared to the short scream Sora let out. Masaki didn't even glance at the child, furious eyes reserved for the boy before him. " _You fuckin' slut,"_ he growled, grabbing Hikaru by the fringe of his hair and backhanding him hard enough to send him to the ground. "Don't you fuckin' lie to me! How much did they pay you?"

_"I said 40 thousand, you sonuvabitch!"_ Hikaru spat out, head ringing from the pain. Masaki kicked him in the side, sending him sprawling over the ground with another small cry. The girls on the sofa were guffawing, near-hyperventilating in their states and creating a horrible cacophony timed with Sora's desperate attempts to stop his own sobbing.

"If I have to ask you one more time, you can join Sora in _Toffee_. This type of fuckery is considered _amateurish_ to them," Masaki warned in a low voice. "By the time they're done with you, you won't even care about the money."

Hikaru huddled on his side, drawing his arms over his stomach in a defensive posture. He tried to regulate his breathing, pain shooting throughout his body as he tasted blood in his mouth from when he'd bitten his cheek at Masaki's last kick. With measured breaths, he responded in as even a voice as he could, "Sixty thousand. I only brought 30 thousand with me, though."

"Of course," Masaki scoffed with a roll of his eyes. He didn't wait for Hikaru to respond, bending down and going through his pockets after knocking away Hikaru's hands. He pulled the notes from his pocket, counting them deftly.

"You owe me 15 thousand," Masaki stated. "And don't start, you fucker - I added another two thousand for having the fuckin' gall to lie to my face."

The older boy returned to his seat on the couch, flipping open his phone and jotting down a quick text. "I'm dropping Yamaguchi from your customer list. I'll find you a new one once you've recovered."

"Wonderful," Hikaru drawled, still curled up on the floor.

"Stay put. I don't need you gallivanting around town in your state," Masaki ordered curtly, shutting his phone. He glanced over at the pair of girls who had gone suspiciously quiet; one girl was smiling into the air without care, but the other had slid half off the couch, body limp. "Ayako - is your friend alive?"

'Ayako' snickered.

"Fuckin' great," Masaki grumbled. He didn't look too worried, though; he could see the prone girl was still breathing, so getting rid of the body wasn't a concern at the moment. "Get off the floor, you idiot!" he snapped at Hikaru.

"Yessir," Hikaru mumbled dryly, slowly picking himself up. Just as he regained his footing, the door to the room opened; admitting a pouting boy with stylishly-tousled chestnut-colored hair leading in a tolerant Amekura.

"Amekura-san?" Hikaru blinked owlishly.

"Itsuka-kun!" Amekura greeted, smile wide and sounding relieved. He moved over to the boy as the male who lead him in sauntered over to Masaki, whispering something into the teen's ear with a glance in Amekura's direction.

"Masaki-kun told me you were hurt," Amekura said, tilting Hikaru's head up to take a better look at the injuries. "How terrible; these look very painful."

Hikaru couldn't exactly look away with the way his head was angled, but he did think he managed a convincingly demure look. "I'll be okay... Sorry for not getting back to you, though, Amekura-san."

"Not at all!" Amekura waved off cheerfully. "Nothing's more important than your health, Itsuka-kun!"

Masaki - who Amekura had his back to - rolled his eyes. The boy next to him just looked mildly intrigued, brown eyes glancing between Hikaru and Amekura as if trying to discern the puzzle. He leant back down to whisper more into Masaki's ear, expression gradually becoming more agitated with every softly-spoken word. Masaki's own expression became more contemplative, dark eyes switching back over to Amekura with frightening intensity.

Hikaru refocused back on the man, managing a wan smile. "Thank you for your understanding. I think I should go, though - I'm getting kind of tired..."

"Of course, of course," Amekura agreed amiably. "Did you want a ride, Itsuka-kun? I can even buy you dinner on the way."

Hikaru shook his head, "It's fine. I just really want to rest-"

Amekura gently gripped Hikaru's arms, making sure he held the boy's eyes, his face serious and lacking its customary smile. With unusual solemnity, he hugged Hikaru, murmuring into his ear with what he thought must have been a comforting voice, "Itsuka-kun, I'll take care of you. Don't worry - I'll take care of everything."

The cellphone in Hikaru's pocket vibrated silently. It went ignored as Hikaru caught sight of Masaki and the other boy trading knowing looks, Amekura withdrawing far enough to give the boy in his grasp a comforting smile. The phone fell still, the brightened screen of its scratched surface reading _'Sai - 32 Missed Calls'._

* * *

 

"You've been on that thing every chance you get."

Sai didn't react to the accusatory tone in the voice, instead all of his attention devoted to the cellphone clasped in his hands. Ogata scowled at the lack of reply, fingers twitching in desire for another cigarette but wisely not giving in to the urge. Other players milled up and down the corridors of the Go Institute, giving the pair the occasional glance as they passed. Many would have likely approached to greet Sai - but since the man was clearly so focused on his phone and looking as dangerous as anybody had ever seen him, few dared to go near.

Sai couldn't have cared less. He'd probably be suffering the repercussions of his abrasive attitude for this day for awhile, but as far as he was concerned, that meant little with Hikaru being god-knows-where doing who-knows-what. The thank-you note left on his dining room table - only with the simple phrase jotted down in messy script - had sucked all the warmth out of the room the moment Sai had seen it. He'd left their dinner - phad thai picked up from the Thai place five blocks from his apartment - forgotten on the table as he dialed and re-dialed Hikaru's phone number. He hadn't given up, even 35, 40 calls later; but he hadn't gotten one single answer.

He'd taken off the moment he got Hikaru's inbox for the 42nd time, roaming around the streets of Shinjuku where he first encountered Hikaru. Roaming the streets at all hours of the night wasn't beneficial to his health, and Sai had been forced to give up when dawn broke over the horizon and bathed the near-empty streets in warm yellow.

He'd returned home and took a quick shower, practically collapsing into his bed after making another five calls to Hikaru. (Surely the boy would pick up if Sai kept harassing him, if only to get him to stop, right?) He'd gotten only about three hours of sleep in before his phone shrilled at him. He had been disappointed to hear an irritated Ogata on the other end, but roused himself from bed; as the Meijin, he did need to make an appearance at the Go Pro Exams, especially since this was the last day.

To Sai's sleep-deprived, sick-with-worry mental state, he thought his presence was unnecessary and the whole affair rather ridiculous. Everyone knew who would ascend into the Pro Rankings: Touya Akira (undefeated), Mashiba Tohru (lost one game), and Makino Ayase (lost two games). But Sai had a job to do, no matter how worried he was; he intended to try and get into contact with Hikaru as often as possible anyway.

Ogata grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "Thought you said you didn't have a woman," but Sai wasn't paying his friend any attention. The frown on his face only increased as his fifty-seventh call got voicemail again, and all sixteen text messages remain unanswered.

" _Ah_ \- Fujiwara-sensei, Ogata-sensei!"

Clearly Amano couldn't accurately read the atmosphere. Curious, for a reporter - you'd think the way other pros scurried away from the pair would have clued him in to the fact that the Meijin and Ogata 9th-dan weren't exactly keen for conversation. The strangled look on the young intern's face at Amano's side showed he was not as oblivious as his superior.

"Amano-san," Ogata drawled in greeting.

Amano just seemed pleasantly curious. "Just as predicted, Touya Akira-kun breezed through the Pro Exams with a spotless record. Did you get to watch the game?"

The _look_ Ogata gave the reporter was just _this_ side of condescending. Sai managed to divorce himself just long enough from his phone to shoot Amano a wan smile, eyes slightly bloodshot from his lack of sleep but looking overall as collected as usual. "We did; he was very impressive. I look forward to seeing his Shin Shodan game."

Amano broke out the notepad at this time, eyes so riveted on Sai that he completely missed the stormy look beginning to develop on Ogata's face. The intern winced and backed away a step, going unnoticed by the reporter.

"We're all very interested in the Shin Shodan games," Amano nodded good-naturedly. "I even hear you will be the one Touya Akira-kun faces?"

"Time will tell," Sai answered absently, violet eyes back to his phone as he painstakingly typed out his nineteenth text message.

"Ah, Touya-kun is out," the intern pointed out meekly.

Sure enough, a small group emerged from the exam room and into the corridor, Akira at the very center and looking the picture of refinement and humility. Amano bid the two older pros a goodbye as he took off in the direction of the new pro, seemingly blissfully ignorant of the simmering 9th-dan and obtuse Meijin left in his wake.

"I thought he was going to kill us," the intern murmured weakly, just out of earshot of the hawk-eyed Ogata.

Amano gave the younger man an amused look, "That's just Ogata-sensei's usual attitude. Best toughen up or they'll eat you alive."

Wasn't Go supposed to be _safe?_

* * *

 

Shuffling into homeroom after nearly three days of absence earned him nothing more than a few curious gazes from his classmates, but as usual, Hikaru ignored them as he slouched into his seat - and likewise, they went back to pretending he wasn't even there. There was no one to reassure or explain his absence to, to Hikaru's consolation; so long as he didn't make himself noticeable in school, he could pretty much pass through the day unharassed.

His homeroom teacher was giving him that contemplative look, as if wondering if he should bother talking to Hikaru about his frequent absences. Personally, Hikaru didn't know why the man even tried; Hikaru rarely ever went to see him after class, even if he had been ordered to. There was no point to these attempts at counseling: the teacher was not invested enough in Hikaru to intrude on his privacy, especially as the boy had been branded a delinquent after ditching class for nearly a week straight. (That had been after he was first introduced to Yamaguchi; the first time with the man had been terrible. Masaki had to visit Hikaru's home and rough him up a bit to get him back on his feet.)

Lecture started without much notice. Hikaru stared at the top of his desk - what a blessing it would be to actually have a window seat instead of always getting stuck in the middle! - as the teacher continued on a lesson about world history. Hikaru had his textbook opened in front of him but didn't pay it any attention, absently adjusting the cuffs of his uniform.

He had been forced to stay over at Amekura's last night, unable to deny a customer's request but unwilling to divulge to the man his home address. Fortunately, he had a spare uniform over at Amekura's (How did that even get there?) so it wasn't much of an inconvenience.

Amekura had been just as obsessed with treating his injuries as Sai had been. But where Sai had broken at the sight and tried to heal with terribly shaking hands, Amekura looked over each fading and healing wound with clinical professionalism, applying disinfectant if necessary or a band-aid to some of the newer scabs. Amekura chatted lightly about everything and nothing, managing to sound soothing while fingers danced and prodded into Hikaru's flesh.

It made Hikaru ill. The professionalism and gentleness may seem easier and convenient - but it was as false as the smiles Hikaru wore. Amekura did not show weakness; he controlled Hikaru as quietly and softly as he possibly could, eyes dark with intent and fingers working with purpose. That, perhaps more than anything else, really made Sai different from what Hikaru was used to - the man was so honest, even if that meant breaking down and showing weakness in front of someone used to taking advantage of such displays.

Hikaru felt along the swollen flesh of his cheek, careful not to apply any unnecessary pressure. It didn't hurt - much - but it still stung if prodded. He wondered how much of it was his fault; if he had been more like Chikara, perhaps he'd have gotten away from that damned hotel room with only a few marks to show for it and with Masaki none-the-wiser.

Satomi always did say he was too feisty for his own good. And if Hikaru was going to be honest with himself (he rarely was), it had felt really good to smack that sadistic bastard right in the face. Yamaguchi's friend had been only too happy to tell their 'toy' all about the other boys he'd had; some like Hikaru, others not.

If it had been Masaki to hear those stories, he would have scoffed and not given it another thought. Satomi would have shrugged it off, unconcerned with things beyond her scope. Chikara would have given one of those small, serene smiles that Hikaru tried over and over to emulate, brushing off the man's disgusting tales, citing why should it matter to him. What did it matter that the man had taken advantage children barely old enough to walk alone back from cram school, had ignored their pleas, had reveled in their cries and screams? What did it matter that they weren't saved, that more weren't going to be saved?

_"Because no one is going to save you,"_ Chikara had told him once. Hikaru had been sitting on one of the tattered sofas in The Gate, staring at a girl no older than ten. Her skin was so pale it seemed almost porcelain, eyes screwed shut and tiny body shivering uncontrollably. Her thin arms rested at her sides, bared open to expose the myriad of needle marks running along her flesh. She was not shivering from the cold.

Chikara was resting on the same sofa as Hikaru, posture languid. He was watching the same girl Hikaru was, lips quirked up in a strange little smile that was at odds with the atmosphere of the room. _"No one is going to save you - so why bother saving others?"_

Hikaru didn't have any illusions of grandeur or salvation. He had not struck out at Yamaguchi's friend for his crimes, past or future; he had struck out because for just one moment, Hikaru wanted to know what it felt like to not be helpless. To draw blood, to let someone know that he didn't want this, that he hated them - with every breath, with every drop of sweat and blood, _he hated them._

_But what else can I do?_ Hikaru mused. _Young and helpless, weak and stupid - what else can I do?_

"Shindou. Come see me after classes finish today," his homeroom teacher stated, standing right in front of his desk. Hikaru started, eyes wide at just realizing lecture had been over for well over a minute now. Some of his classmates who remained in the classroom glanced over but quickly looked away, uninterested in their teacher's latest attempt at trying to reign in Class 1-B's delinquent.

Hikaru smothered a rueful smirk. The last time an adult had stood this close to him, he'd been trying to-

_Best not think about that during class,_ Hikaru cut his train of thought off abruptly. After giving Ishino-sensei something that sounded like an acquiescence, the teacher didn't bother harassing him as their math teacher entered the room.

It was a pity; he'd actually intended on pitching in for the after-school clean-up today, but it looked like he'd have to ditch as soon as lunch rolled around. There was no way he was going to play along in his teacher's monthly attempts at intervention.

Hikaru gathered up his things as soon as their lunch hour kicked off, ignoring the huffily exasperated look the Class President was giving him; everyone knew Hikaru had no intention of sticking around so why bother trying to sneak out? His eyes caught on something posted to the school bulletain board as he walked through the corridors, latching on to the play of white and black circles atop a familiar grid.

_God - I never really do escape you, do I, Sai-san?_ Hikaru thought in exasperation. (Was this some kind of sign that he should start replying to Sai's calls?) Hikaru stared at the tsumego problem mutely, subconsciously moving forward to get a better look at it. The problem itself looked familiar - perhaps it had been in one of the tsumego workbooks Sai had gotten him.

" _Hey_ \- what are you trying to do?"

Hikaru stopped abruptly, brought to a halt at the accusatory tone. A taller figure stepped in between Hikaru and the object of his attention - although he could still see it over the other boy's shoulder. The other male was about a head taller than Hikaru, with heavy bangs and eyes as dark as his hair. He had square-framed glasses that seemed to dominate the majority of his face, and although there was a rigid authority to his posture, he wasn't nearly as confident as he was pretending to be. The way his eyes seemed to widen at the bruise marring Hikaru's face didn't sit well with the blond-banged boy.

"What the hell is your problem?" Hikaru asked, honestly curious. As far as he could tell, he actually hadn't been doing anything that should concern an upperclassman.

"You do not talk that way to your senpai," the older boy chastised, looking equal parts angry and indignant. Hikaru's lips ticked down in annoyance but he remained quiet as the other boy continued speaking. "And don't act innocent! You're the one that's been drawing those horrible pictures all over our club's advertisements, aren't you?"

Hikaru rose an eyebrow, "Club?"

"The Go Club!" the older boy snapped. "I'm the President! We're very serious about recruiting members, and your crude drawings are insulting!"

_Haze has a Go Club?_ Hikaru wondered in shock. "What the hell do you do in a _Go_ club?" Hikaru wondered, not realizing he had said that part aloud. The very idea of just playing Go after school was so strange that Hikaru was honestly stumped by it. Any time that wasn't spent at school or at 'work' was used to recover from whatever abuses he'd suffered under. No wonder it was so hard to connect with his classmates; they were obviously too busy playing around or studying to even think about how much money was spent just buying the goddamn school uniform, tuition, or food they ate.

The sincere question set the older boy off, "We do a lot!"

"Can you stop with the hostility? I didn't draw anything; you've got the wrong guy," Hikaru cut in abruptly. The bespectacled boy seemed honestly surprised at the interruption and at the denial. Did he actually think that the real culprit would even admit to it? Hikaru tried not to roll his eyes at the naivete. "I was just looking at the problem, so back off already."

The look he received was neither apologetic nor even doubtful. "There's no point in lying. Someone like you wouldn't understand something as beautiful and complex as Go."

The way the older boy said it - like he was so certain, like it was an unalienable truth - twisted something in Hikaru's chest. Hikaru ground his teeth, for some reason undeniably furious. _Someone like him?_ Like he was something less than the boy who stood before him, who hadn't even noticed the reaction his words had wrought and continued on in his indignant rant?

What was wrong with someone like him? There was nothing wrong with Hikaru! What had he done that was so wrong? He was trying to survive - to the best of his abilities, against the odds. He stumbled over the obstacles in his life but he tried to overcome them the best he could; he'd done a lot more, he'd paid a whole lot more in blood and sweat to be able to stand in this hallway in this uniform than the boy before him could even begin to fathom.

Furious eyes caught back on the black and white of a world that Hikaru could still only glimpse. The other boy was right; Hikaru may not understand everything about the beautiful world that Sai was a part of - but he was learning. What used to be silly little pebbles that he'd held uncertainly, wondering when the man on the other side of the board would cease his charades and finally hurt him like all the others - now he could see them as pieces to something so much larger, so much more interesting.

Go was a world to its own, a world shaped by those who played it. Whether it became beautiful, or strangled, or calmly alluring - these were crafted by the hands played, by the minds behind those who wielded the stones. There, Hikaru could escape - even if he fumbled, unsure of his own steps, he still learned. It didn't matter how much his body hurt, or how hard it was to bite back the screams, or how tired he felt waking up day after day to restart the vicious cycle. Hikaru could fight and stagger across the goban, could make mistake after mistake that wouldn't leave marks on his flesh, didn't have to worry about the repercussions should he win or lose.

Go was the only battle Hikaru could conceivably win.

Hikaru fished a pen out of his bag as the upperclassman continued on about taking school codes seriously. He uncapped it, frowning a little at the waste, but Hikaru was too hard-wired at the moment to really care.

"And I _will_ find out which class you belong to-"

_Thok!_

Hikaru didn't bother to restrain his smile at the wide-eyed, terrified expression that bloomed across his senpai's face. He released his grip on the pen, leaving it stabbed into the bulletain board as he withdrew his arm from over the boy's shoulder slowly, trailing fingers over the collar of the uniform and briefly entertaining the fantasy of strangling the older boy.

"2-1," Hikaru stated calmly. "Problem solved, senpai."

Hikaru pivoted, striding off without a backwards glance.

Tsutsui Kimihiro did not call out after him, trembling lightly as he backed up a step in a delayed reaction to the sheer _anger_ he had seen in those green eyes. He bumped into the butt of the pen, prompting him to turn around with a wince.

It took a moment for Tsutsui to understand what he's seeing. His eyes focus on the spot on the poster where the pen was stabbed a quarter of the way in, left by a boy who couldn't have done more than glance over it for less than a minute before he'd been interrupted.

_2-1._ The hand that solved the advanced tsumego problem Tsutsui had printed on the flier.

* * *

 

Sai had been moving on autopilot for the entire day. Those who knew him well could tell there was something mechanical in his gestures and speech but said nothing about it; Ogata had bit back his concern, even as Sai congratulated Akira on his ascension into the pros.

Sai did not stick around long enough at the Institute to meet the former Meijin, leaving Ogata to deal with the reporters who wanted the current Meijin's opinion on those who had passed the Pro Exams. Sai could give his opinions later, hopefully on a day where he didn't feel like collapsing from exhaustion, sick with worry and all of his attention attached to his phone.

He'd stopped calling Hikaru during what should have been the boy's class time, but he remembered enough from the coma-verse to know when lunch was for junior high students. He had honestly thought about going home early, perhaps to scout around Haze Junior High, but Ogata had shot down that idea by practically acting as a living chain.

Now, late into the evening, he returned home with heavy footsteps. Not one single call or message from Hikaru. For all Sai knew, the boy could be out getting hurt all over again. What would it take to get the boy to trust him? How much longer did Sai have to stand at the sidelines and watch Hikaru get ripped apart over and over again?

Sai's fists clenched at his sides as he climbed the last step up to his floor, the night air chilly but not the reason for the shiver that swept down his spine. As an adult - a man who clawed his way up the Go ranks through hard work and dedication - he hadn't felt helpless in a very long time. After his mother took her own life, he'd vowed to live independently; to not overtly-rely on the money and connections his father boasted that ultimately cost Sai his mother.

He'd taken Go classes for a long while, but he didn't start to take it seriously until his uncle - the younger brother of his late mother - offered to take him in while Sai refused to speak to his father after his mother's funeral. The man had claimed 5th-dan rank before retiring at his wife's request, settling for starting several small business that ranged from a cozy cafe to selling antiques. It was lucrative, but the man had a passion for Go that he bred into Sai with every lesson.

Sai had picked up Go at a speed unimaginable, eventually surpassing his uncle-turned-mentor. His entire world was focused on the goban, on the play of white and black, on weaving a universe out of stones and wood and clever hands.

But Hikaru wasn't suffering in the world of Go. He was suffering in the world outside of it, a world Sai had become disconnected to.

"Cold tonight, isn't it?"

Sai stumbled, barely catching himself on the railing. Violet eyes were wide in shock as they rose to address the source of the comment, disbelief warring with hope over his face as his heart stuttered over as the breath caught in his throat.

Hikaru stood leaning against Sai's door, smiling pleasantly. The bruise on his face had darkened - a new one? - but he wore a different clothes: a short-sleeved white shirt with nonsensical English words in colorful, blocky font, a dark pair of blue jeans, and sky-blue high-top shoes. He'd look like any normal 12-year-old, if not for the bruises on his face and the wariness in his eyes.

For a long moment, they just stared at each other. Hikaru looked like he was waiting for Sai to say something - to scold him, to smother him, he wasn't quite sure himself. As it was, though, Sai steeled himself and moved forward. Hikaru froze in anticipation but Sai only unlocked the front door.

"Please come in," Sai instructed softly.

Hikaru was always unable to say no.

* * *

 

Sai had entered the kitchenette without a word, setting the tea to boil before pulling out a mug. Hikaru watched him quietly, shutting the door behind him and taking off his shoes. He stepped further into the far-too-familiar apartment, unsure what to do with himself as Sai began to pour milk into one mug, putting it into the microwave to heat up.

"I bought some choco powder," Sai began evenly. The tone was neither cheerful or displeased; just a bland statement of fact. "You're fine with hot chocolate, right?"

"Sounds great," Hikaru deferred.

The boy took a seat at the dining table at Sai's motion, watching carefully as Sai set about making said hot chocolate. After setting the proffered treat in front of Hikaru, he made a hot cup of tea for himself then took the seat adjacent to his visitor.

"I'm sorry I didn't reply to any of your calls or messages," Hikaru caved, perturbed by the taut silence that had fallen between them. He had his hands wrapped around the warm mug of hot choco but had yet to take a single sip.

Sai didn't reply, face devoid of emotion as his eyes remained on the boy's cup. The silence between them stretched long enough to cause Hikaru to fidget, sparking a sense of nostalgia in Sai. So much energy - Hikaru had been full of it, unrestrained and excitable. It was - _nice,_ to see that that energy hadn't been beaten entirely out of the boy before him.

"I was worried about you," Sai began softly.

Hikaru's shoulders relaxed slightly. _This_ he could deal with; he'd heard the same from Amekura. Comforting phrases were easy to parry and without much thought, he slipped into his role of 'Itsuka'; a wide, guileless smile broke across Hikaru's face.

"I didn't mean to leave so abruptly but I had some business to take care of," Hikaru replied cheerfully. "I would have come over sooner but I can't always be skipping school, you know? Even if it is to spend time with you, Sai-san!"

Hikaru laughed, hoping it didn't sound as fake as it really was. Sai gave no notice, staring into the cup still clutched in Hikaru's hands. Hikaru paused, wondering if he'd screwed up - was it rude to have not taken a sip yet? Hikaru had been hoping Sai wouldn't notice; he actually didn't care much for chocolate but there was no way he was going to tell that to the other man. Hurriedly, he took a long sip, making sure to force a pleased expression on his face as the thick, sweet cocoa was swallowed down his throat.

Sai watched him with hooded eyes. Hikaru kept up his happy smile - he'd practiced it in the mirror almost every day so he knew it was flawless - but for some reason, Sai still didn't look pleased. With a small sigh, the Go pro let his eyes drop from Hikaru's face to the tabletop.

Hikaru was being thrown for a loop. How was he failing? Sai had never been hard to please - so why did he still look so damn depressed? Before Hikaru could make another comment, Sai spoke.

"I was worried about you," he repeated again, just as calm and softly as the first time.

Hikaru's lips involuntary twisted down into a brief frown. Sai wasn't responding the way Hikaru had thought he would and it was throwing a serious wrench into the machinations of what should have been a fairly standard business apology. If Sai noticed Hikaru's brief flash of displeasure, he didn't comment on it, instead taking a short sip of tea.

Sai put his cup back down gently, eyes still locked onto Hikaru's hands, wrapped around the base of the cup as if it were a lifeline. "But even if I say that, you don't believe it, do you?"

Hikaru froze.

For a long time, neither said anything. Sai continued to drink his tea, calmly awaiting a reply that Hikaru was too scared to make. Sai had broken the polite pattern of business and Hikaru does not know how to continue. He cannot guess what the man is trying to get at, cannot understand what his customer would appreciate more in this circumstance: the truth or a denial of it.

Hikaru thinks of Yamaguchi and his friend; the first to break pattern, and their crimes and arrogance, secure in the fact that nothing could touch them. He thinks of Kousaka, who gives Hikaru his first taste of alcohol and discards him as easily as used tissue paper. He thinks of Amekura, thinks of the man's soft hands and gentle touch and how much he hates him.

Then he thinks of Sai, who is so scared of touching him that even the slightest contact panics him, who cries more in the few days Hikaru stays with him than Hikaru himself has ever cried before. He thinks of Go, of the war raged with stones on wood, of standing up to the upperclassman who dismissed him on sight because of dyed hair and bruised flesh.

There are a thousand things Hikaru could say to diffuse the situation. Masaki taught him how to lie with his gestures, Satomi taught him how to lie with his words, and Chikara taught him how to lie with his smile; Hikaru is nothing if not capable of lying his way into people's good graces.

The truth has never been an option before.

"No," Hikaru allows finally. He says it with a certainty he does not feel but knows it is the truth regardless. "I don't believe it at all."

The statement hangs between them, bared for what its worth. It is the most honest Hikaru has ever been and he does not know what to expect next. He looks up into Sai's face but the man's expression is closed off. Violet eyes are dark with some unnamed emotion and he looks far more tired than Hikaru had first seen.

Sai stands without a word and moves down the hallway towards his bedroom. Hikaru does not watch him go, eyes refocusing on to the two mostly-full mugs that remain on the table. The smell of chocolate and tea mingle in the air, pleasant in a way that Hikaru is surprised by. He wonders if this is what that upperclassman experiences whenever he returns home: sweet tastes without cost, warmth without pain, only thinking about the Go games he played earlier or the homework assignments he needed to finish.

Hikaru counts both time and expenses in terms of what he has suffered for them. He'd put on his favorite outfit for Sai; the shoes alone had cost him one long, ruthless night under Kousaka's hands. Hikaru does not remember the man that bought him the jeans, but he does remember crying the morning after, sitting curled up in an empty bathtub but too frightened to turn the water on. The shirt was a gift from Amekura, courtesy of a lie about passing his history test.

Hikaru spent a moment ruminating over the fact that whoever played Go that entered his life never seemed to stick around for long. _Must be some kind of curse,_ he thought.

He rose to his feet. Losing two clients within the span of a week must be a new record, and Hikaru wondered how badly his rating will be when this is all over. He bit back a grimace when he realizes he must return back to the apartment his mother owns, as he would only take up room in the Gate and the others are not fond of loitering.

"Please don't leave."

Hikaru has managed only a step before he is interrupted. He cannot quite believe his own eyes and ears, but Sai has no such hesitancy; he breaches the light of the living area where Hikaru was sure he had been discarded. Eyebrows furrowed in concern, Sai stands between Hikaru and the entryway. He does not breach Hikaru's personal space, as careful as he is with his own movements.

Sai holds out one hand towards Hikaru, who only just realizes the Go player is holding something. Small and metallic, it rests in Sai's proffered hand like it wasn't shattering every expectation Hikaru had.

"The key to my apartment," Sai stated. "It's for you. You're free to come and go, eat any of the food, and use any of the amenities. I-I want you to treat this place as your home."

Hikaru stared at the key uncomprehendingly. Then he smacked it out of Sai's hands.

Sai's eyes widened, taken aback. "Wha-"

"What am I to you?"

Hikaru's tone was even and sharp as sleeting ice, intended to draw blood and raise Sai's hackles. _This_ was what Sai had seen in Hikaru's eyes, hidden behind the lure and the dreams; something so damaged and twisted that it made him falter. Hikaru's eyes were narrowed, losing their warm facade in favor of the calculating glint that his dream counterpart had only ever had when placing his opponent in _atari._

"Am I some kind of morality pet to you? Some pathetic thing to save?" Hikaru continued on. He did not sound angry, but that did not mean he wasn't; each comment was meant to cut. "Do you fancy yourself a hero?"

The contempt was clear and it ripped at Sai's heart to hear it. Hikaru had never hated him; even when they had first met in the dreamverse, even after he'd more or less forced Hikaru into learning Go. But that was hate in Hikaru's eyes now, and it was Sai he was looking at.

"I would never be so presumptuous," Sai began gently, calm in the face of Hikaru's rage. "As to believe I can save anyone."

Hikaru's teeth grit at what he believed to be such an obvious lie. Sai did not give him enough time to speak, though, continuing just as softly, just as certain, "I only want to help you. That is all I want to do."

Hikaru couldn't help it - he chuckled. That chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh, arms crossing over his midsection as he continued in his slight hysteria. Sai did not move, did not speak; he only watched the boy with that same sincere, patient expression.

Sai was so _funny._ No wonder Hikaru liked him as much as he could ever like a client; the man was hilarious. So ridiculous, so unreal - his very existence was as much of a shock as Hikaru's. More laughter bubbled up the boy's throat, only he did not bother reigning it in.

Help. The last time Hikaru had been _helped,_ he'd been given a scheduled meeting with Masaki. _Any more help and I probably won't last,_ Hikaru thought with mirth. His laughter died down but the wide, hysterical grin on his lips and slightly-unhinged look to his eyes must have been quite the sight. Sai stiffened near-imperceptibly yet, admirably, he kept his stance.

Hikaru tackled him to the floor.

Whatever Sai had been expecting, it clearly hadn't been full-on assault. The man went down unhindered and with a small shriek, landing with a painful thud on his back. Hikaru didn't wait for him to regain his senses, crawling over his adult counterpart's body, hands pinned to either side of Sai's head. Violet eyes stared up into his own pair in dazed surprise.

"Helping someone implies there's something there worth assisting," Hikaru said, leaning closer. "Sai-san, _I am worth only as much as I am paid."_

Hikaru descended just far enough to place his lips over the man's. The contact was brief and dry, but from the way Sai froze completely beneath him, Hikaru had obviously pushed him too far.

Hikaru could only work within his paradigm. Sexual acts for money, necessities paid for with flesh and tears; that was how Hikaru was used to the world working. He was not given aid, nor care - because for some reason or another, he did not deserve that. He could do very little but he did whatever he could to survive. It was not about pride, and somewhere along the way, it was not even about living; it was about getting by day-to-day. For Hikaru, everything from the mundane to the momentous has been a struggle.

Hikaru pulled back. He was not surprised to find tears sliding down Sai's face, free-flowing and unabashed.

"You," Sai's voice wavered and broke, a fresh sob escaping before he could choke it back down. Hikaru can think of a thousand different insults and backlashes that could pour forth from Sai's lips, and knows the man is strong enough to speak them. Sai continues to tremble with the energy it takes to control his despair but Hikaru does not mind waiting to hear his words.

It is the least he can do. Hikaru knows he will be the one to break his own last hope, but some part of him has already accepted that he was beyond help in the first place.

"You," Sai starts again. His voice wavers; his eyes do not. "You are so _brilliant_ , so _talented_ \- and you don't even know it."

He cups Hikaru's cheek in his hand. It is the first time Sai has ever willingly touched him and it freezes Hikaru completely. Disbelievingly, he can only stare at the older male. Tears continue to trail down Sai's face but his touch is gentle and firm.

" _Please,"_ Sai whispers, so softly it is nearly lost to the silence in the apartment. "Let me help you."

Hikaru almost wants to laugh again, but instead of hysteria it is tears that escape. Unlike Sai, Hikaru is shocked by this; his arms lock in place as he watches a few drop onto Sai's face. The older man does not move to wipe them away, nor to withdraw his own hand still holding Hikaru's cheek. The tears are so startling because after Hikaru had truly become _'Itsuka'_ , he did not have time for tears.

Hikaru thinks about being trapped in that hotel room with Yamaguchi and his friend. He thinks about what it meant, to so vehemently not want something and yet be unable to voice the dissent. He thinks he knows what it means to be _Itsuka_ , because it is synonymous with helplessness.

Hikaru recalls his first meeting with Kousaka. Tasting alcohol in his breath, pinned against the wall of a park's public restroom late at night, heart thudding so painfully in his chest that he worries it may just burst. It is rough and shameless and without remorse, and _Itsuka_ becomes equivalent to pain for profit.

Hikaru is reminded of the first time he hears Amekura play the piano. It is the first thing ever done solely for him, and he burns the memory into his mind almost desperately. The song was smooth and beautiful and so terribly sad. Hikaru does not cry because he cannot hope to understand, but he wonders what it means to be _Itsuka_ when the only intangible gift he ever receives is fleeting and haunting.

Hikaru remembers what it felt like to regain consciousness in a room he didn't recognize, body alight with pain and feeling so filthy that it brought tears to already stung eyes. He remembers waking to the sight of Masaki slouched in the adjacent armchair, taking a slow drag from his cigarette as their eyes met. Disgust and regret and terror - Hikaru had felt them all in brief flashes before they were swallowed by the growing numbness. Masaki had stared at him for the longest moment before a wide smirk broke across his lips, _"Not bad, Itsuka."_

There is nothing in him worth saving. Itsuka is weak and helpless, accustomed only to receiving pain and living for profit. He is mangled and twisted beyond form, charred beyond use and discarded almost immediately after. He is disgusting because if he wasn't, he wouldn't be suffering as he was now. The possibility that he had fallen to such a dark place for no reason other than that this was the hand life had dealt him was far too pitiful for him to bear. _Itsuka_ is many things - many terrible and pitiful things, because that is what Hikaru needed to become to survive.

But that is not Hikaru.

"I am not Itsuka," Hikaru says faintly. There is strength in his words, vindication he relishes because Hikaru has never been so certain of himself before, so aware of who he was. The tears have stopped, as has the shaking. Sai can only stare up at him, something resembling hope rekindling in those eyes as he waits for the boy to continue.

Hikaru is not helpless, because he drew blood first against Yamaguchi's friend; he is not obsessed with profit, because he does not mind losing if it means he will learn and become better; he is not scared of pain, because he has withstood tortures both physically and mentally that many in his generation could not begin to fathom.

He is not _Itsuka_ , because Masaki had christened him with a moniker for the sole purpose of having a means to disassociate himself from it. It was the only mercy Masaki could afford to give.

"I am Hikaru."

* * *

 

A/N: This was a crazy chapter! O.O

You got your glimpse of the Go Club, the first step towards an actual relationship being developed between Sai and Hikaru, your first intro to the Gate, tensions with Ogata rising... Busy, busy!

  
_Note 1)_ Characters (OC): There's going to be a number of them. They'll never be as central as Sai, Hikaru, and most of the canon cast - but they will be important.

  
_Note 2)_ The "Gate" and Hikaru's Job: Although this will be further elaborated on as the story goes in, there seems to be a little confusion on the job itself. The "Gate" - the building - is not a brothel. It is essentially where any of those involved under Masaki can go for reports or to crash. The job itself is not so high-class as to be called an escort service; it is all arranged via phone or email through Masaki, who sets up appointments and the like.

  
_Note 3)_ Rankings: Hikaru's job is ranked by difficulty and services; from Vanilla, to Caramel, to Toffee, to Choco, and then to Espresso. I've already introduced Vanilla (the most basic) and Caramel, and now in this chapter you have Toffee. What services are provided in each rank will mostly just be implied, as done with Sora's "sodden bandages," but just know that the 'stronger' the flavor, the more terrible it is.

  
_Note 4)_ Hikaru vs Itsuka: This will be a major component of Hikaru's trauma and subsequent rehabilitation. Identity is something sexual assault victims struggle with, and for males, this is an especially stirring issue due to gender roles and stereotypes. It is not going to develop into multiple-personality disorder or anything similar, but the moniker 'Itsuka' represents many things to Hikaru (as seen above), and this identity issue will be heavily addressed as the story progresses.

As always, thank you for dropping reviews! :) They really are great motivation to write more, so don't be shy! If you have any...

Questions, comments, concrit? Then please... _Kindly drop a comment_.

 


	4. Seam Ripper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : Sorry for the wait! Got busy, then got really distracted with the timeline and story notes for this story. Y'all are awesome, you know that? The reviews always make me blush, haha~! _Grazie_ for the great feedback and keep it coming!
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.
> 
> **Pairings** : _!UPDATED!_ (Feb 2013)
> 
> -OgataSai (definitely): It tied in so well to the story and timeline, this is now an expected pairing.
> 
> -AkiHika: Slowly being pushed into the _'elements of'_ category. They're going to have a very strong relationship, but given the pacing I want this story to have and where the focus is, Hikaru's romantic relationships may just be hinted at rather than fully detailed.
> 
> **Warnings** : Ditto the other chapters. Also, the notes at the end get a bit explicit.

## 

**Chapter 4**

###  _Seam Ripper_

It had been a long time since their last game. Not that Kouyo was exactly counting, nor were they considered weekly events; but Sai used to drop by at least twice a month or whenever he could get away from the crowds always fighting for the Meijin's attention. It was easier for the younger man, as he had never picked up any students but instead opted to visit a high number of Go functions. Not to mention with Ogata shadowing Sai's every move (and now that Akiko had opined subtly that, _just_ perhaps, Kouyo's student wasn't exactly following Sai around just because the man was a gifted Go player), getting Sai's undivided attention was a near-impossibility. Even Kouyo had to play against the man with Ogata and Akira hovering around at the side.

It had been nearly two months since their last match so Kouyo could admit that he had really missed his counterpart. Sai's hands were as beautiful and clever as ever - although it was hard to miss how tired the younger male looked. There were slight bags under his eyes as if sleep had been hard to come by for awhile now, and Akiko had been stopping by nonstop with tea as if she could revive the energetic Meijin solely with caffeine.

At the same time, Sai also looked incredibly happy.

He was as reserved and diligent as ever while playing but once the stones had been put away and the game thoroughly discussed, and they'd retired back to the kitchen table - Sai seemed unable to stop checking his cellphone, typing out a message and smiling.

Kouyo had heard rumors about Sai's distracted state outside of games but he'd ignored the gossiping of his students. (They noticeably choked back spreading more rumors whenever Ogata appeared, as there was nothing that could irritate the 9th-dan more than hearing gossip about Sai's "lover.") To see it in action now, however... Well, he'd been about Sai's age when he'd started going through _omiai_. Sometimes it was all too easy to forget that yes, even though Sai was a brilliant Go player the likes of which never encountered - he was also a young man.

"Youth is a wonderful thing, is it not, dear?" Akiko sighed from next to her husband, looking fondly nostalgic and proving to Kouyo once again that she must have some kind of otherwordly sense.

Sai looked up from his latest 'read-text-and-reply-while-grinning' activity in confusion, dark eyes glancing between the two.

Akiko's eyes held a teasing edge, "Ashiwara-san is under the impression you've found yourself a lover-"

"I have _not_."

Had Sai not sounded so _horrified_ by the very idea, they could have passed it off as him being shy or irritated by gossip involving him. The pure cutting intent in his tone, the way his eyes narrowed, and the vehemency with which he spoke - these were not normal reactions for Sai. It caused the pair to pause and stare at him a moment longer, letting Sai realize that he'd displayed something off-putting.

"I apologize for my rudeness," Sai relented softly, unable to look them in the eyes.

"Of course not, Sai-san," Akiko demurred. "It was out of line to suggest something of the sort. What you do in your private time is no one's business but your own."

_And probably Ogata-san's_ , she added to herself mentally.

Sai still looked vaguely guilty, taking a small sip of tea. His eyes remained on the table, seemingly deep in thought; Kouyo did not bother to speak. Akiko stood, murmuring something about preparing some snacks - did she think they were students? - and leaving the two men alone. Sai let his thoughts wander, in no hurry to break the otherwise amiable silence that settled between him and the older man. He planned on stopping by the library later to do a little more research on abuse cases, then head back home in order to prepare dinner for himself and Hikaru.

_And Hikaru_. Sai let himself savor the thought; Hikaru had told him his real name. He had broken down - surprised by the depths of his own hurt and even moreso that Sai was not - and he had told the man his name. The moment Hikaru's real name passed his lips, Sai had known they had crossed their first hurdle.

The first of many, many hurdles. Now more than ever, Sai would have to be careful. Hikaru had acted as if what he were involved in wasn't hurting him, had convinced himself so thoroughly that what he went through was merely the natural course of life; Sai had disrupted that belief and would now have to prove it inherently wrong. Hikaru could not hide behind 'Itsuka' while in Sai's company any longer - he had to be honest, more honest than he had ever dared.

Sai knew that it was the honesty that scared Hikaru. He could only guess at how long it has been since Hikaru had last spoken as 'Hikaru' and not the front he pulled on customers and classmates alike. Sai had to hear everything from Hikaru: every complaint, every fear, every careless whim and whispered torment. It would come gradually, that level of trust; it would develop through every homework assignment Sai would help Hikaru through, every game of Go they played, every moment they spent together where Sai did not betray the tentative security Hikaru dared himself to feel.

Sai could wait. He _would_ wait, because Hikaru deserved that and so much more.

"Have I really seemed so distracted?" Sai asked lightly. He knew he'd been quite rude during the final day of the Pro Exams. He certainly wasn't regretting it, however; that particular series of events had led him to not being as careful as he normally would have been in dealing with the ever-wary Hikaru. He'd been far more blunt than usual, which had eventually resulted in him bludgeoning down the wall Hikaru had so meticulously built up between himself and Sai.

Kouyo seemingly weighed the question, although his face remained impassive. "It has not affected your game," the older man began. Sai knew Kouyo wouldn't have forgiven him if it had. "And you seem happier."

_That_ surprised Sai, yet the observation only made a warm smile bloom on his lips. "I am very happy," he agreed.

 

-

 

Hikaru didn't know why he had bothered to pick up the call. It might just have been out of reflex, it might be because he was once again left alone and bored out of his mind - but neither were very good excuses given who was on the other line. But it wasn't like he could hang up; that would surely earn him more than just a few new bruises.

_"I found you a new customer,"_ Masaki started casually. He sounded as dispassionate as ever but Hikaru hadn't expected any different. _His_ view might have shifted radically recently, but Masaki was still firmly ingrained in the world of dark rooms and late nights. _"New client, but he passed background and has a clean bill of health. Stable job and totally new-"_

"I want out."

The silence that greeted Hikaru's otherwise quiet statement was nerve-wracking. In all the time Hikaru had spent in the service of Masaki, he'd never personally known anyone in the Gate that had just up and left of their own accord. Vanilla-ranked 'employees' usually disappeared eventually if they didn't ascend however, especially given how light their own debts tended to be and how easily they are replaced. Caramels also had the option, although it was a bit harder to disappear as they were more tied in with their clients. For the other ranks, it was nigh-impossible; but for a Vanilla like Hikaru, it shouldn't be that hard.

But he wasn't sure. He was never truly sure, when it came to business with Masaki. Hikaru knew he couldn't just stop answering, as Masaki knew where he lived and had enough eyes and ears on the streets to find Hikaru easily enough anyway. One does not run from Masaki - that was one of the first things Hikaru learned from the Gate.

_"What was that?"_ Masaki's voice was quieter but no less severe.

"I want out," Hikaru repeated, after only a brief moment of hesitation. He clutched the throwpillow on Sai's couch, eyes drifting over to the kifu the Go professional had left out for him to go over and the remains of what Sai's sticky note had assured Hikaru was porridge, even if the substance was disgustingly salty and congealing. "I'm not doing this anymore, Masaki."

_"Because of just one little incident?"_ came the biting rejoinder. _"What, are you going to ask dear old mommy for food - oh wait, you can't. She **hates** you."_

Hikaru flinched.

_"You plan on starving then?"_ Hikaru could hear the sneer in Masaki's voice. _"Back to the rags and life of petty crime, eh?"_

Hikaru didn't say anything. A long pause elapsed over the line, the only sound the background movement and chatter of people in the Gate from Masaki's side.

_"...But you wouldn't quit just because of what Yamaguchi did, would you?"_

Hikaru winced. He had hoped the older boy would just stick to the Yamaguchi excuse.

_"No, you're not that sensitive. You're more logical than that, even if you are an idiot - **You little shit**! Were you **bought**?"_ Masaki sounded incredulous.

'Bought'. Hikaru knew of it but hadn't fancied the idea himself; he'd only personally known one boy that was bought from the Gate. Ame had been an embittered, pitiless boy who fronted a geeky-cute style that appealed to customers who wanted someone they could 'taint'. Hikaru had only spoken to him a few times before Ame agreed to one of his regular customer's Purchase. He became the sole property of that customer, living expenses and the like all paid for in return for being his customer's 'lover'.

They were just like merchandise, really.

" _You **were**. Who was it? It was Amekura, wasn't it?"_ Masaki continued on. _"He hasn't sent me the request yet, though."_

Hikaru's lips twisted down into a contemptuous scowl. As if he'd ever agree to being the sole property of one of his customers. "I haven't been bought. I'm just quitting."

The snort was audible, _"What makes you think this is the kind of job you can quit whenever you like?"_

Hikaru's heart began beating faster. "But I thought Vanilla..." Hikaru trailed off uncertainly.

_"Don't be naive, Itsuka. It doesn't suit you."_

Now Hikaru definitely felt sick. Could he run? Was there a point in doing so? Sai had a stable job as a Go professional; he wouldn't just run because Hikaru asked him to. But there was no point in Hikaru running by himself with nowhere to go. He'd only fall back into the role of Itsuka. He was too weak to resist Masaki, too stupid to find another way...

Masaki sighed angrily, _"Come back here. We are going to have this conversation in person."_

No escape. Even with Sai, there was still no way to escape from _'Itsuka'_. Tears slid down his cheeks but Hikaru didn't make a single sound.

_" **Now** , Itsuka,"_ Masaki ordered. The older boy paused, then continued on dispassionately, _"Rizumu is coming back."_

Hikaru's eyes widened. "Rizumu..." he breathed out.

_"Hurry up or you'll miss him."_

 

-

 

Hikaru had messaged Sai with only a brief explanation about having to take care of personal business and that he may be late for dinner. As expected, he'd received a call shortly after by the frantic Go pro, although it probably helped soothe the man's nerves when Hikaru actually picked up this time.

_"Business? Can't it wait until I get back home?"_ Sai asked, worry coming in loud and clear from the other side of the receiver.

Hikaru was already only four blocks away from the Gate. He didn't bother hiding his dry tone as he replied, "Sorry, it has to be now."

_"I can leave work then-"_

"Don't," Hikaru cut in. Was work that lax for the man? "It'll all be over soon."

_"What!"_

Hikaru winced at the loud exclamation. "Sorry, poor phrasing. Look, I'll be back in time for dinner, okay?"

Displeased silence. It was amazing to Hikaru that he could even tell.

_"What kind of work, exactly?"_ Hikaru's lips twitched up in a smirk that was almost cruel.

"Not what you're thinking of, for once. I'm visiting a friend."

_"A friend?"_ Relief - and doubt. It was somewhat reassuring that the man wasn't that naive, Hikaru thought. _"...Can you tell me about it when you get back?"_

"Sure," Hikaru agreed easily enough. He was going to completely lie about it but it's not like Sai would know that.

_"Hikaru,"_ Sai used his name far too easily. It always sent a little jolt down his spine when he heard it, but it was...nice, to be acknowledged in such a way. In school, he was 'Shindou' - the delinquent; outside, he was 'Itsuka' - employee of the Gate. On some days, he'd forget he was Hikaru, swallowed up by one role or another.

It seemed Sai wouldn't forget. _"I'll call you in about an hour, okay? Please pick up."_

"I'll try," Hikaru replied softly. He hung up before Sai could respond.

Stepping through the familiar entrance of the Gate, Hikaru shoved the cellphone back into his pocket. Going up the staircase, he bypassed a trio of older girls who gave him only a cursory glance. As school had ended only just two hours ago, it was still too early for business to really kick off; there were far more people present now.

Hikaru could recognize some but he only personally knew about a dozen or so by name. He had been employed to the Gate for about half a year now but that seemed to be quite the tenure here; others were traded out to other groups, bought by clients, or just disappeared. The latter held a more sinister connotation and Hikaru had heard some terrifying rumors here and there about it. Masaki had never taken challenge to his authority very well. It was the main reason his word was law within the Gate; no one dared to question the person who could make anyone vanish without lifting a single finger.

"Is that Itsuka-kun I see~?"

That was all the warning Hikaru got as he stepped through the door before he was promptly wrapped up in a pair of skinny arms, face practically smashed into the girl's bosom in a smothering hug. He couldn't help an involuntarily flail and he could hear soft laughter coming from the right.

" _My darling~!_ Masaki-kun was telling me _alllll_ about what that nasty Yamaguchi pulled!" the girl crowed, pulling back only to lean down, face hovering a scant few millimeters from Hikaru's. "My poor _baby~!"_

Mocking. Hikaru scowled in irritation, breaking free of the girl's hold and prompting a smirk to spread across those glossy, pale pink lips. "Mimi, you're a bitch," he stated flatly, stepping past his neighbor with a bland look.

Satomi - known as _'Mimi'_ while in the Gate, she had stressed - was 16 years old and the one who had connected Hikaru with Masaki. She was in Caramel, although she had started only about two months before Hikaru himself; apparently she had gone to the same junior high as Masaki. Her bobcut-styled hair and large, expressive eyes matched her cheerful personality, and she upped her own cuteness factor by acting younger than she was. Hikaru was only more irritated by this, as he knew it all to be a complete act and one she deliberately exaggerated just to bug him.

" _Oh my honey_ , don't be so cold!" Mimi cooed, trailing after the younger boy. "Come on, now you can tell Aoi-chan to shut up whenever he starts complaining about Yamaguchi! There's always an upside!"

"Like hell!" came the disdainful rebuke from said teen, lounging on one of the sofas. True to his name, Aoi's hair was a dark shade of cobalt blue that only seemed to illuminate his pale skin. He was good-looking in a handsome way, Satomi's age and whose tenure matched that of Chikara - so he'd been employed in the Gate for over a year.

"Yamaguchi took me into fucking _Toffee,"_ Aoi pointed out snidely. The bitterness was expected - once you reached Toffee-rank, you didn't leave it.

"She just wants you to stop bitching so much," another boy put in cheerfully. He was sitting crouched on the sofa next to Aoi's, dark bangs framing thick, square glasses and lips smiling. Hikaru glanced at him but didn't maintain eye contact. He knew better than to stare at Tomorou for too long; he matched Masaki's tenure and influence in the Gate. Hikaru didn't know what exactly Tomorou had gotten involved in to get that kind of power but he wasn't about to question it. Questioning the wrong people may lead to a death sentence in this place.

"Where's Masaki?" Hikaru asked, turning back to look at Satomi. The girl sauntered over to sit next to Aoi, off-handedly flipping her hair as she reclined languidly.

"Somewhere~!" she sang back.

"Tending to the damn brat," Aoi put in. "I don't know what the client did to him this time but it seemed pretty serious. Little fucker couldn't stop whimpering."

A sickened feeling settled itself into Hikaru's gut. It was Rizumu to which Aoi was referring; the boy was the same age as Hikaru, but for some reason or another he was heavily disliked by the general populace of the Gate.

"Itsuka-kun only comes to see Rizumu, huh~! It's not fair!" Satomi whined.

"No one in their right mind would want to see an annoying bitch like you," Aoi sneered.

Hikaru let them banter it out. There wasn't any point in joining in; in their own twisted way, this was how relationships were developed within the Gate. It was a strange sense of camaraderie, broken only by the reality that sometimes they competed over the same customers for the same disgusting job. Even then, they were united by their hatred for their customer base. Hikaru privately thought he'd turn out just like them. It was either that or he'd turn up like a corpse; Masaki had been pretty clear on that point.

There was a light tap on his shoulder. Hikaru turned, mildly surprised to see the Chinese immigrant known only as _'Shanhai'_ staring back at him contemplatively. He was a fairly recent addition to the Gate, having been shoved into Masaki's hands by the district's leading yakuza group. The Chinese teen could only speak in broken Japanese so he tended to skulk around the Gate as a loner. He was pretty and exotic, but nervous among other members of the Gate - to be expected, of course. He was often bullied by some of them. No one else seemed to notice the Chinese boy's odd behaviour, distracted as they were by the escalating argument between Satomi and Aoi.

Shanhai looked uncharacteristically determined. He was only a couple years older than Hikaru, and just like Aoi, he'd been suddenly thrust into the Toffee rank. Shanhai didn't complain however, even if that was just because of the language barrier.

"I saw your book. You play _wéiqí,"_ Shanhai stated.

Hikaru blinked, taken-aback. "I play what?"

_"Wéiqí,"_ Shanhai repeated, a small frown of frustration turning his lips. "Stone encircle game? I do not know Japanese name."

_Stone encircle game-?_ "Go?" Hikaru ventured tentatively.

Shanhai stared at him, looking equally puzzled. _"Wéiqí,"_ he shrugged. An idea came to the Chinese youth and he pivoted to go to the corner of the room. A tall bookcase loomed in the corner, partly obstructed by a sofa. It held a variety of board games and manga, although the items were only used to show appeal to the rare customers who visited the Gate. It was a way of showing off their persona without actually interacting with the customer, if the client wanted to pick out someone by themselves. (This was how Hikaru had gotten Amekura, incidentally.) Shanhai threw a few games off to the side, pulling out a folded-up cardboard and a small plastic bag full of black and white stones. Hikaru was honestly surprised at the sight; they actually had go stones here?

Shanhai motioned Hikaru over as he set the cardboard down, unfolding it to reveal the familiar grid of the goban. It really was just a flat piece of cardboard with the 19 by 19 grid drawn out with black permanent marker, but it seemed to be precisely spaced and such. Shanhai dumped out the stones to the side, filtering them into the appropriate piles.

"We play _wéiqí,"_ Shanhai said. It didn't sound like a suggestion or offer, but the Chinese youth peered at him hopefully. This was likely the only friendly interaction the boy had ever had. Hikaru wondered if it was okay to pity someone older than him, even though pity had only ever infuriated him.

Hikaru plopped down on the opposite side. "I'm not any good," he said frankly.

Shanhai waved him off, a genuine smile on his lips. "Does not matter. I just like game," he said, pushing the pile of black stones towards Hikaru. "You first," Shanhai decided after a moment.

Hikaru picked up a stone just as Sai had taught him, a small smile on his face. His first non-Sai game would take place in such a downtrodden place, wouldn't it? _How oddly fitting,_ Hikaru mused.

_"Onegaishimasu."_

 

-

 

Nineteen by nineteen, a pattern of white and black that didn't make a single sound when played. The wrinkles in the cardboard sometimes upset the dimensions of the lines, or shifted one stone or another off; but never enough to confuse. The stones themselves were chipped but oddly clean, untouched by the dust that otherwise coated the other games.

_6,3._

Shanhai held the stones perfectly, careful as he placed them on the makeshift board. His hand was steady and certain with every move, gauging his opponent with clear eyes and no smile. Hikaru's eyes flicked from the other boy's face back to the board, more concerned with the battle than his opponent's expression.

_4, 6._

With only Sai as an opponent, this was the first game Hikaru has ever played on an even field. Handicap stones did nothing against Sai - Hikaru always thought he'd have to place at least 20 to even give Sai a slight challenge - and the man's plays were defensive and gauging, testing all of Hikaru's hands to try and teach him something,

_3,7._

Shanhai had given him no handicaps, just as unsure of his own level as Hikaru. But because Sai had never felt any particular need to attack Hikaru as he taught him, Hikaru's style leant itself to a more aggressive hand. To dominate, to control, to be _his his his his_ \- Hikaru's playing style was attempting to slaughter every hand Shanhai played.

_16, 17._

Shanhai had learned _wéiqí_ from his grandmother. She had been a kind, clever woman; her withered limbs had not affected her mind and she taught Shanhai her favorite game before destitution claimed her. In the village he was raised, there were no ways to advance through things like being good at a board game; his father had left town to go overseas in hopes of finding steady work and sending money back home. Shanhai had not heard from him since and his mother worked long hours every single day just to feed him and his siblings.

_15, 13._

Just to have enough to survive, they had to borrow money. As the debt climbed, Shanhai had been forced to acquiesce to the collector's demands. He'd been shipped off to Japan shortly after to work in an affiliated branch just as he'd turned fourteen. He hadn't heard from his family since; he could only hope his mother and little brothers were still in their hometown, scraping by with what Shanhai had sacrificed for them.

_10, 12._

_He's good,_ Shanhai thought, placing another hand. Through the relentless onslaught of black on white, he'd wondered if the boy even bothered with a defense. He'd sacrificed entire eyes just to see what the younger boy would do to try and defend the next territory. Shanhai couldn't quite tell if the indifference to his threats was because Itsuka was still an amateur or because he honestly felt no threat.

_17, 2._

Shanhai blinked. _Why there?_ he mused. So this boy really was just an amateur... Still, Shanhai was not disappointed. He honestly just enjoyed playing this game and as long as his opponent could at least answer a few simple moves, he was satisfied. He had glimpsed the tsumego workbooks in his opponent's bag a few times whenever he was idling at the Gate. The one perk of being the outsider in the establishment is that few cared enough to actually take much notice of him. It made moving around the place much easier, if a bit lonely.

_14, 7._

Hikaru winced. The older boy managed to take over a lot of territory with that move. He'd have to re-evaluate how useful constant aggression was in this game; the consistent challenge seemed to unsettle Shanhai's hands but the older boy had a careful defense that was steadily taking over more territory. _Still..._ Hikaru glanced at the hand that had so noticeably confused the older boy. _Just a few more hands now..._

_7, 2._

The younger boy responded oddly to some of the hands he played. He seemed to be unused to actually playing the game; Shanhai wondered how the boy even got caught up in it in the first place. He didn't know anything about Itsuka - but he didn't much care, either. Getting emotionally tied to anyone in this line of work was a foolhardy move and Shanhai had no such inclination. Still, this 'Itsuka' was proving to be interesting. Not many played wéiqí, especially anyone in the Gate; did the boy have a client who was teaching him? It would explain why Itsuka would sometimes be confused by moves outside of the standard, unique to Shanhai's particular style. _Lack of experience,_ Shanhai decided.

_4, 13._

Hikaru didn't show anything as the trap snapped closed. _Got you..._

Shanhai stared. That hand a few moves back had...shifted the entire play of the board. _How?_ Shanhai wondered, going back over his moves. How had he missed it? Surely there must have been some way to have foreseen it; had he gotten careless? He got too comfortable with the flow of the game, had underestimated his opponent - _How far?_ Shanhai wondered, a cold sweat breaking across his bow. _How far ahead can he read?_

_"Nǐ shì shénme?"_ Shanhai murmured, eyes still locked onto the stones.

_What are you? What are you? What are you?_

"...what the fuck are you two doing?"

Both their heads snapped up at the voice; Shanhai's dark eyes narrowing in confusion as Hikaru's widened in alarm. Masaki was glaring down at them, hands shoved into his pockets as his eyes glanced over their faces and down at the game on the ground. Hovering behind the teen was Tomorou, grinning widely as he stared unabashedly at the game of go.

"I didn't know you two could play go!" the boy crowed, sweeping past a disbelieving Masaki. "That's completely retro~! Where did you learn that, Itsuka?"

Hikaru didn't answer. Tomorou didn't seem to have expected one, stepping forward and stomping one boot-clad foot atop the game. Hikaru flinched and Shanhai cried out at the ruined match, but wisely did not try to stop Tomorou as the boy ground the cardboard under his heel.

"Tomo-chan, stop bullying them!" Satomi reproached from her position on the nearby couch.

Aoi lit up a cigarette, "The freaks were really into it, too. Who the hell even likes that old man's game?"

"Just because you're too stupid to understand it doesn't mean it's dull," Satomi sniffed.

"You don't understand it either, bitch!"

Masaki scoffed, grabbing Hikaru by the arm and hoisting the younger boy up. "I don't care why the fuck you know how to play," he started, practically throwing his charge onto the adjacent sofa. Shanhai jumped to his feet and skittered across the room, taking refuge on a dilapidated armchair and curling up. Tomorou continued to gleefully demolish the board game, humming in contentment as the cardboard came apart under his ministrations.

"So about that bullshit you were spouting earlier," Masaki said, plopping down next to a disoriented Hikaru and stealing Aoi's lit cig off-handedly. The blue-haired boy scowled but said nothing. "Since apparently you're just being a whiny little bitch, I'm putting you on the shelf."

"...I don't know what that means," Hikaru admitted after a moment.

Masaki gave him a condescending look, "No new customers for now. You'll stick with what you have."

Hikaru curled a little more into himself. He only had one client as far as the Gate was concerned. He knew this could have ended a lot worse, knew Masaki could have ignored Hikaru's desires and force more customers on him, knew he was considered lucky by others for this generous demand. But still - some part of him had wanted this to stop completely. He wanted Itsuka to cease to exist.

"Amekura," Hikaru muttered.

Masaki nodded, face bland as he took a drag, "Amekura."

The way the older boy said his name was concerning. Hikaru remembered the look Masaki had given the man when he was last in the Gate. What had happened between the brunet boy Hikaru had seen and Amekura?

"Where is Rizumu?" Hikaru finally asked.

Masaki shook his head, "You can't see him today. He's in _Ice._ "

Hikaru hugged his legs to his chest, resting his chin atop his knees as he stared out over the room. 'Ice' - meaning 'isolation'; Masaki was attempting to detox Rizumu from whatever was currently pumping through the child's system. Hikaru wondered what kind of drug had been forced into the other boy's body to warrant it.

His phone buzzed, belting out a tune as Hikaru pulled it out. He glanced at the Caller ID and was unsurprised to see Sai's name flashing back at him, matched with _gagaku_ ringtone that had Masaki twitching in irritation. Hikaru turned back to his 'boss', who was taking another long drag although his eyes were locked onto Hikaru's phone in consideration.

"Are we done?" he asked softly.

Masaki was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Get lost," he dismissed. Hikaru flipped open his phone, striding out of the room without a farewell and ignoring the myriad of stares he'd earned as he left.

"I'll be there soon," Hikaru said in lieu of a greeting into his phone.

Masaki watched him leave. Just as the blond-banged boy descended the stairs, Masaki motioned to a tall teen reading in the corner of the room. The blond-haired teen gave a short nod, sweeping long bangs out of his eyes as he slouched out of the room.

Satomi winced. _Why unleash the Dog?_

 

-

 

Hikaru knocked on the door, blowing out his breath to watch it fog and disappear. There was a flurry of noise behind the door - something clattered, the low thud of someone tripping over their own two feet, then rapid footsteps. Sai threw open the door only a moment later, looking a little harried.

"Welcome home!" Sai exclaimed cheerfully, stepping aside to let the boy in.

Hikaru eyed him askance, "You're surprisingly clumsy, did you know that?"

Sai's face reddened. Hikaru ignored the low whine of _"I'm not used to people knocking on my door!"_ as he took off his shoes and set them to the side, slipping on the pair of house slippers Sai had bought for him.

"I'm making soup for dinner," Sai said, moving back over to the kitchenette. Bubbling on the stove was a pot of dark brown broth, which Hikaru was forced to assume the noodles were boiling in. To the side were a small variety of diced vegetables: carrots, green onions, white carrot, and eggplant. Every available herb and spice was positioned nearby and all looked used.

_I wish there was a way to turn off my taste buds,_ Hikaru mused in exasperation, eyeing the ingredients warily. "Please tell me you didn't use every spice in your cupboard," he commented.

Sai blinked, bemused. "Why? I was worried the chicken broth would be too bland, so I added a bit of everything..."

Hikaru rolled his eyes. Of course. _I'll just eat it as fast as I can,_ he vowed.

"It's almost done, but would you like me to make you a cup of tea?" Sai asked, stirring the concoction.

Hikaru took a seat at the dining table, lips quirked up into a titled smirk. "What, no more hot chocolate?"

Sai's stirring paused briefly, dark eyes locked onto the boiling pot. Hikaru wasn't looking over at him, but he could feel the odd tension in the air. He kept his eyes on the far wall, not willing to break the silence.

"Hikaru," Sai started softly, continuing to stir. "Do you like hot choco?"

"...No," Hikaru replied lowly, yet his gaze never dared to drift towards Sai's immediate vicinity. The pro wondered at what point Hikaru had been taught that denying anything was worthy of punishment. The boy was so frightened of even disliking something as insignificant as _hot chocolate_. The small detail infuriated the pro; what kind of monsters had laid their hands on Hikaru, had taught the child that voicing his dislikes was wrong? That sharing his _preferences_ was wrong?

Sai spooned out the soup into two bowls without further comment, placing one in front of his charge. He returned to the kitchen to fetch them both a cup of tea, setting the drinks down and taking the seat adjacent to the boy. Hikaru was gazing down at his soup in apprehension, using his chopsticks to find the noodles - thin rice noodles, judging by looks alone. He tentatively slurped a few, along with the broth.

_Must not choke, must not choke, swallow swallow swallow-!_ Hikaru chanted to himself. He didn't know what the sauce was made of - it didn't taste like anything he'd ever had before. And there were bits of garlic and egg floating towards the top, and some kind of oil was clearly trying to disassociate itself from the broth.

"Wow, the ginger really brings out the taste, doesn't it?" Sai mused happily, slurping away at his own portion.

_Your taste buds are so broken!_ Hikaru cried out mentally.

Hikaru forced down the rest of the noodles but couldn't quite swallow the broth. He put his bowl away in the sink as Sai cleaned off the table. The man stacked the pot and cutting board by the sink, handing a wet rag to Hikaru.

"Wipe down the table, Hikaru," he instructed kindly. "Then work on your homework."

Hikaru considered the rag for a moment, but did as told. He hadn't had a chore since he was six years old, when his mother had him water the bamboo plant stationed on the kitchen counter. He cleaned up after himself well enough (he had to, seeing as no one else was there to take care of him or his belongings), but he hardly had any personal possessions that required systematic cleaning. Just like him, his possessions were easily disposable.

Hikaru brought the rag back to the sink, leaving it to the side as Sai finished cleaning the dishes. "I don't have any homework," he told the man frankly.

Sai glanced over at him, setting a plate to dry. "Really?" the go pro asked shrewdly.

Hikaru scowled at the obvious doubt but it was quickly replaced by a small smirk. "Well, I didn't go to school today so it's hard to do homework that I wasn't present to receive..."

"Hikaru!" Sai snapped, straightening up from cleaning. "You can't skip school!"

Hikaru stuck a finger in his ear, faking a yawn just to be especially obnoxious, "Obviously I can, since I just did."

Sai huffed, putting away the last dish. "Education is very important, Hikaru! Not to mention mandatory. Or do you want to be held back a year?"

Hikaru twitched, "Stop _lecturing_ me."

Sai gave him a long look. His interactions with his younger companion were growing to be more and more like this; volleying back between timid agreement and obnoxious defiance. Sai knew Hikaru was just testing his boundaries, seeing how far Sai could be pushed - to see if he would break, would throw Hikaru away, would wash his hands of the boy.

If he had maintained the 'professional' relationship with Hikaru, he knew the testing of his boundaries would be much more subtle. But that wasn't the relationship Sai wanted, and in some way, Hikaru was just beginning to understand this. Now he was approaching Sai in a way he had never approached anyone before, testing the grounds with unsteady steps and wary eyes.

It was both vexing and exhilarating. To know that Hikaru was trying, in some way, to take Sai's outstretched hand for once - Sai couldn't be any happier. However, that didn't mean it wasn't fraying his usually-calm nerves; Hikaru would be obstinate about anything, to the point where Sai wondered if he was just being stubborn about whatever struck his fancy. Then when Hikaru avoided being completely honest when Sai asked him questions, or avoided answering altogether - it made the older man fear the worst.

Sai was scared of pushing Hikaru too hard but at the same time being too lenient that he came across as uncaring. He was walking a delicate tightrope and his emotional state was being worn down because of it. It was exhausting like playing games against corrupt politicians was exhausting, only Sai didn't quite know what was expected of him and the results were far more important to him.

Sai didn't say anything but he did give a little sigh as he moved past the younger boy. Hikaru tried to pretend he wasn't as irked at Sai's visible disappointment as he really was. _Like I care what he thinks!_ Hikaru thought furiously, following the man back into the living room.

"So what were you doing earlier?" Sai asked, taking a seat at the table.

Hikaru took the adjacent chair, "Nothing much. Just went to visit a friend but he wasn't there."

Sai's gaze was unrelenting. "Hikaru, you promised you'd tell me about it."

"I did. I tried to see my friend but he wasn't there. So I'm back. It wasn't a terribly exciting day," Hikaru replied casually.

Sai was quiet for a moment, staring at the tabletop as if it would give him all of life's answers. Then his eyes rose to meet Hikaru's gaze but the younger boy quickly averted his attention to the far corner.

"So who is this friend?" Sai asked.

He said it in a vaguely curious manner but Hikaru flinched anyway. Sai flinched in response, prompting a small scowl from the boy.

"Not _that_ kind of friend," Hikaru bit out waspishly. The reminder that he still had to service Amekura made the bile rise in his throat again yet he made sure to keep the distasteful look off his face. Sai didn't need to know anything about that.

Sai didn't look like he fully believed him but valiantly continued on. "And your friend...?"

Hikaru shifted to pull a knee closer to his chest, resting his chin atop it. "His name is Rizumu. I haven't seen him for awhile. He's sick right now so I couldn't talk to him."

Sai nodded in understanding. The man knew the boy wasn't telling him the whole truth - or even a grain of it, really - but at the very least, he could tell that this 'Rizumu' likely actually existed. The strange name clued Sai in to where Hikaru may have met the boy, which lodged a distasteful clump of emotions in the pro's heart.

True, he hadn't gotten Hikaru to swear aloud that he would leave his former life behind - but Hikaru had all but reached that conclusion himself. His continued presence at Sai's place was proof of that.

_Slowly,_ Sai reminded himself. _Measure your steps._

"I take it you met this friend in your line of work," Sai mused calmly. He gave himself credit for maintaining his even tone, even as Hikaru's eyes snapped up to pin him with frightening intensity. The boy was obviously entering his defensive mode, as seen from the way his lips thinned and his shoulders straightened.

Sai kept his expression as complacent as possible, "It's clear you hold him dear. He must be important to you."

Hikaru blinked at him owlishly, taken off-guard. Sai continued on soothingly, "He can stop by and visit you here, once he gets better. I don't mind you having friends over."

Hikaru's eyes turned calculating, clearly thinking through Sai's suggestion. With the way the boy's shoulders remained tense, Sai realized that somehow, his statement had been taken the wrong way. He thought back to his words, running through them a few times trying to look up alternate meanings.

_The only way Hikaru could misunderstand it..._ Sai inwardly sighed. "I can even leave the apartment, if you want. Really, Hikaru - he's your friend. I don't have to be here while your friend is over if it makes either of you uncomfortable."

Back to the wide-eyed look. Sai wondered if the boy was surprised more by the offer or by the fact that Sai had apparently understood how his suggestion had been mistaken. The pro did not even want to know where Hikaru had learned that "having friends over" meant something more along the lines of a _ménage à trois._

A short silence elapsed before Hikaru shook his head. "Rizumu... He's not really what I would call a _friend,"_ he admitted softly. At Sai's curious look, he continued on a bit stiffly, "Well, _I_ think of _him_ as a friend, but I don't think he thinks of me as one."

Sai blinked, "What?"

Hikaru shrugged, disheartened. "He doesn't really... _understand_ the concept of friendship, you know?" His hand settled on the tabletop, fingers tapping out an unsteady rhythm as he searched for the right words. "It's hard to explain, but he could never come over either."

Hikaru's fingers stopped their incessant tapping, the boy's green eyes looking at his knuckles unseeingly. "Rizumu belongs to the Gate," _We all do,_ Hikaru added to himself. "He can never leave it. He's not allowed."

"The Gate?" Sai echoed in confusion.

Hikaru gave him a level look. It took a moment but then the epiphany struck - Sai's eyes widened before narrowing as his hands clenched in his lap. "Is-Is that where this all started?" the man asked. No need to elaborate what 'this' was - the way he ground it out was telltale enough.

"No," Hikaru negated wryly. " _That_ all started in a shabby little motel room for 60 grand. The Gate is just the only place we have left afterwards."

"Sixty grand-!" Sai choked out.

Hikaru chuckled mirthlessly. Tears sprung to Sai's eyes at the sound but the man blinked them away as his charge continued speaking.

"Sixty grand is a pretty good price, you know," Hikaru told him lightly. "First time hurts like hell, though. Bastard couldn't even do it properly-"

There had been a lot of blood on the bedsheets. Masaki had dragged him back to the Gate - Hikaru could barely remember the walk there, he had been in so much pain - to get him checked over. The person responsible for taking care of their injuries had treated the area, proclaiming that Hikaru was lucky that nothing was ripped; no one likes damaged things, after all. He'd been cleaned up with rough hands and shoved out the door with directions to come back next week for his next appointment.

_"No one should have done that to you!"_

Sai stood abruptly, hands slamming down atop the table and cutting Hikaru off mid-word. He was utterly vehement, the chair he had been sitting on knocked backwards by his sudden movements. Hikaru froze in shock, green eyes wide as he took in his companion's irate visage.

"Hikaru," Sai started again, noticeably trying to reign himself back in. "No one should have- _hurt_ you like that. What those men have been doing to you _isn't right."_

It was important that Hikaru understand this. The boy needed to know that what happened to him wasn't right, that it shouldn't have happened, that he hadn't deserved to be hurt in such a way. The way Hikaru talked about it - like it was just a normal occurrence - made Sai's heart twist. That someone could do _this_ to a _child_...

Sai righted his chair, re-taking his seat. "I did not meant to startle you, and I'm sorry I did. But Hikaru, what those people are doing is a crime. It should never have happened-"

"But it did."

Hikaru's tone of voice was sharp and devoid of feeling, matched only by the look in his eyes. He was resting his cheek against his fist, elbow propped up on the tabletop and eyes locked onto the older male. "It did happen," Hikaru said, voice low and disaffected. "And there's no use in pretending it didn't."

"Hikaru, that isn't-" Sai winced, trying to find the appropriate words that wouldn't enrage his charge. "That isn't what I meant. You're right - pretending nothing happened is not only pointless, but harmful."

Sai's hands were in front of him, resting on the table and beginning to twist together in his agitated state. "I just believe it's important to make a distinction between what is right and what is wrong."

Hikaru's lips twisted up into a mockery of a smile - part-sneer, part self-deprecating smirk. "Because I can't differentiate?"

Sai met his eyes evenly, "No - just that you don't want to."

Hikaru could convince himself that what he was involved in was merely a part of the cycle of his life; it did not need to be labelled, to be judged morally or ethically because such distinctions did nothing for the boy. Whether or not it was 'wrong' mattered little to Hikaru, because regardless of its ethical existence - he would still have to do it.

Sai could tell Hikaru had more or less persuaded himself not to draw the lines, not to really think about how his job hurt him emotionally or mentally. To a child so concerned with just his own physical survival - Hikaru had had no room to worry about anything else. As long as it kept him clothed, sheltered, and fed - Hikaru did not dare question the role he had assumed for his survival.

Hikaru's fingers drummed on the table, before reaching up to half-heartedly brush his bangs out of his eyes. Sai noted the length: it was almost to his shoulders now, hastily pulled back into a messy ponytail that looked fashionable rather than negligent. He filed it away as another difference between this Hikaru and the one in the dreamverse; Hikaru's special attention to his own appearance would be endearing, if it hadn't been so carefully-cultivated from a lifestyle where appearances were the selling point.

"Hikaru," Sai began, breaking them from the stifling silence that had lapsed. Hikaru looked up at him guardedly, clearly not wanting to delve into any more issues Sai had with Hikaru's lifestyle - or that Hikaru had but didn't want to think about.

Sai opted for a more routine, gentler approach: "How was your day, otherwise?"

Hikaru didn't appear to be surprised by the abrupt topic change, although there seemed to be an internal struggle as to how answer Sai's question. Sai knew that well enough; the question itself was harmless, nothing more than a routine often indulged in by anyone from family members to friendly acquaintances. To anyone else, this question and the answers would mean little in the way of things. To ask this of Hikaru, however, was in its own way a little test: should Hikaru answer as he usually does - by assuming the role of Itsuka and lying - then Sai could gauge the level of trust Hikaru had afforded him. Sai was not naive enough to believe Hikaru would be completely honest with him at this stage, but even partial-admission while remaining as the honest Hikaru would be a tell-tale sign of just how much Hikaru was willing to take Sai's helping hand.

"Boring," Hikaru answered finally. From his tone, he sounded carefree and idle; from the way his eyes remained fastened to Sai's nose as if not quite daring to meet his eyes told something else altogether. "Your apartment isn't very exciting, you know."

"You could read," Sai offered, not letting his disappointment show. It wasn't the answer he was looking for but he didn't need to press for more quite yet. "I have some books to entertain you-"

" _Touya Meijin's Go Tutorial,"_ Hikaru cut him off, sounding bored. " _The Complete Kifu Collection of Honinbou Shushaku_ \- who you seem to have an unsettling obsession with, because there's an entire bookshelf dedicated to his kifu and commentaries on them. Another four shelves of kifu dating from the Taishou Era to the present, and I won't even go into all of the Go magazines stuffed into the drawers like porn mags." Hikaru tapped his fingers on the table in an exaggerated expression of deep thought, "As for your non-Go related literature - which only have two shelves - almost all of them are poetry books. _Poetry."_

Hikaru gave him a rather galling smirk, "You were the kid everyone picked on in school, weren't you?"

"I was not," Sai huffed. The truth - he'd been the kid everyone tended to avoid interacting with, given the high status of his father and his own keen intellect. His beautiful looks earned him many an admirer, but awkwardness tended to color his every social interaction. Unimpressed by prestige, frustrated with the dim, and with the innocent curiosity of someone half his age - Sai had a way of alienating people without meaning to.

The expression on Hikaru's face clearly showed he didn't believe a word of it. The younger male dropped the line of conversation however, turning his eyes to the rest of the apartment. Sai drew back as well, eyes glancing about the room. He could understand Hikaru's boredom; the apartment barely held any interest for its own adult occupant, let alone a preteen. A couch, a table, and a goban; the only decoration Sai had bothered with were the stray plastic houseplants he'd bought upon Touya Akiko's suggestion of applying feng shui.

A one-room apartment was plenty for a lone bachelor like Sai. The bare necessities were fine, considering the amount of time he spent outside of his home. If he wanted to be the kind of support for Hikaru that Sai so fervently wished he was, he was going to have to change his routine life to better incorporate his new charge. He could start here, in the place where Sai intended Hikaru to live from now on.

"This weekend," Sai started, violet eyes evaluating the sparse living room as a gentle smile slowly came over his lips. "Let's go shopping. See if we can make this place more lively. How does that sound, Hikaru?"

Hikaru appeared startled. He didn't know how to respond - on one hand, that sounded like a great idea; the apartment could stand a little more excitement. However, to be the one to tell the older man that his personal tastes left a lot to be desires wasn't a comfortable role for Hikaru. Had he overstepped his boundaries, having complained so much? Was Sai just trying to buy him into greater debt?

Hikaru's silence must have clued Sai in somehow, but the older man just reached over to ruffle Hikaru's hair in a pointedly platonic gesture. "It should be fun. I also think this place is too boring," Sai mused, standing up. He wandered over to the goban, kneeling down to run a loving hand over the surface. Hikaru didn't follow immediately, instead fixing his touseled mane with a disgruntled look on his face.

"I believe you've advanced far enough that tsumego problems can be done by yourself. Shall we play a game, Hikaru?" Sai suggested brightly, childish cheer returning to his voice at the prospect. It was that aspect of Sai's personality Hikaru could never understand; the man was ruthless and beautiful while playing the game, hopelessly naive in everyday interaction - but pre-game he was as excited as a toddler in a mud puddle.

The idea of playing a game brought back the memory of his own against Shanhai. Although they hadn't been able to finish the game - Tomorou was such an asshole! - Hikaru couldn't help but feel a bit of pride at being able to hold up on his own in actual game. Although he had been losing, he'd been able to spring a trap that had clearly left the Chinese boy flustered.

"Actually, I want to show you this game I was playing first," Hikaru said, going over to the board. "It was against a- friend of mine. We didn't get to finish it but tell me whatcha think!"

Hikaru set the goke to the side, opening each for access. Stone by stone, he set the hands down in the order they were played, bright green eyes holding a spark of excitement with each hand. Sai's eyes flicked from the board to Hikaru's face; he couldn't keep his own smile from splitting his lips. Hikaru's face was the most animated Sai had seen, as enthralled in the game he was portraying to Sai as his dream counterpart had been.

The urge to hug Hikaru and weep with joy at this flicker of hope was near-overwhelming. Sai wanted to squeal with joy, wanted to promise - and mean every word of it - that he would show Hikaru hundreds, _thousands_ of beautiful games. To be able to touch Hikaru without worrying how it would be perceived, to hold him without tears, to provide a safe home that Hikaru would not doubt the sincerity of; Sai yearned for these things so strongly that he had to fold his hands together on his lap, hidden behind the edge of the goban so Hikaru couldn't see how they shook.

Somewhere along the fifth or sixth hand, Hikaru began to explain his own plays: what he planned, what he believed his opponent to have planned, the beginning of a trap that would have confused greater players - using their experience and own belief of superiority against them. "I wasn't completely sure he would fall for it," Hikaru confessed, frowning as he placed the hand that had so confounded his opponent. "He's stronger than me, I think, or at least has more experience. I just thought that I could use that against him."

Here, Hikaru gave a half-hearted shrug. "People tend to believe what they want. If they think they're better than you, that superiority will color their actions, right? I thought I could use that to blind him, I guess..."

Blind him it had. Sai could read through the plays easily enough; he knew which side was Hikaru immediately, able to identify the aggressive style for what it was. This Hikaru hadn't learned as- _gently_ as the dreamverse one had. In all of their teaching games, he simply tried to massacre as much of Sai as he could. The Meijin had been trying to teach him that what worked better was a better defense but Hikaru's own innate belief of his inferiority had stopped him from completely absorbing that lesson.

It seemed Hikaru had learned it readily enough from this game. For the most part, Hikaru had just carelessly attacked where and what he could. Before the few hands that started the central trap, however, Sai could see Hikaru's own style shift; his plays became less erratic, more honed and _defensive._ Sai could have kissed the opponent that had hammered home the point of defense for Hikaru.

The trap itself interested Sai. It was just so _Hikaru_ that it nearly stopped his breath. Hikaru's trick plays had become part of the boy's unique style in the dreamverse, although those who played often enough against him had become able to figure out that that seemingly useless hand might not be as stupid as they first believed. This Hikaru seemed to be developing the same way; Sai couldn't have stopped his pleased smile even if he tried.

The last hand most certainly wasn't the last of the game. While Hikaru had been right, his opponent was the stronger of the pair - well past Tsutsui, perhaps stronger than even Kaga - with the trap sprung and the amount of territory Hikaru had obtained, the game could have gone well into _yose_. Sai cocked his head, _Did Hikaru forget the rest of the game?_ It wasn't terribly surprising - the boy was only a beginner, after all, and it wasn't like he was used to recalling games - but it was a bit disappointing. Still, it was interesting enough that Hikaru could recall this much about his first game...

Hikaru picked up on the confusion, "We got interrupted and couldn't finish," the boy answered the unspoken inquiry. "This is as far as we got."

He would have gone farther, Sai realized. Hikaru was playing, was enjoying playing; the thought struck hard and true. Even now, Hikaru was looking up at him - eager to learn, eager to continue. Hikaru wanted to improve on his own, was seeking out and playing games on his own. He was no lnger applying the rule of 'whatever pleases the customer' to Sai's teachings. Hikaru was learning, Hikaru was evolving, Hikaru was taking his first steps into a world free from his past.

" _Wha-_ Hey, why are you _crying?"_ Hikaru demanded, flustered.

"I-I'm just so _happy! Hikaruuu!"_

"Why you gotta cry over _every little thing_ , you weirdo!"

 

-

 

If another person asked Ogata one more goddamn time if he was feeling alright, the ninth-dan was going to strangle someone. The dull throb of a terrible hangover still haunted his head as he ghosted through the halls of the Go Institute, trying and failing to lose the chattering Ashiwara at his side. He'd gone drinking the night before, intent on picking up the first thing that hit on him in the bar and blocking the last few months from his mind.

Just as some saucy little thing in a red mini-dress started chatting him up, he couldn't help but think she was all wrong; her hair wasn't long enough, nor dark enough, and her smile was too predatory and not sincere enough. Just when he thought he could ignore all that, he'd taken her to his apartment but they hadn't gotten further than a few naughty touches before he'd called out the wrong name. (He didn't even _remember_ her telling him her name, to be fair.) That had earned him a resounding slap across the face and he'd passed out in a drunken, touseled state to the sound of her high heels stomping away and the slam of his front door.

"Oh, it's Fujiwara!" Ashiwara piped up ecstatically.

Ogata was even more irritated to see the Meijin looking so goddamn happy as he noticed the pair. He greeted every person he swept by - whether they be stuttering first-dans or insolent seventh-dans - as he made his way over to Ashiwara and his huffy companion.

"Seiji! Ashiwara-san! Good morning," Sai greeted cheerfully.

"Good morning!" Ashiwara echoed.

"Shut the hell up, the both of you," Ogata growled out, one hand to his temple as his headache flared.

He was ignored by the pleased-as-peach pair, who began trading remarks on how lovely the weather was and such. Their light-hearted chatter and consequently awkward attempt at socializing - because they were both often likened to overeager kids - would have been vaguely amusing to Ogata on any other day, but right now the ninth-dan wished they'd take all their damn good cheer and shove it up their-

"Ah, Seiji, did you want to get lunch together?" Sai asked, turning to his friend as Ashiwara caught sight of Saeki Koujiro leaving one of the rooms and hounded after him.

And just like that, the world looked a little bit more wonderful. "Fine," Ogata grunted, careful not to look eager. It would be the first time in a month they had gotten any time together. Maybe Sai had finally broken it off with his girlfriend or whatever had been keeping the Meijin's time so occupied these days...

"Can I come over tonight?" Ogata asked, as they left the confines of the Go Institute in search of food. "We haven't played in awhile."

Sai did this weird stutter-step, quite nearly falling to the side, mouth forming an 'o' of surprise. Something in Ogata's chest clenched painfully, but he ignored it for the most part as he gripped onto Sai's arm to help the man regain his step.

"I-I'm sorry, Seiji," Sai managed out. "I'm still not - I still can't have anyone over. Perhaps another time."

Ogata grit his teeth but kept his snarled words at bay. _Another time, my ass!_

 

-

 

In all fairness, Ogata had always been completely honest with Sai. Ogata was the one that observed all the delicate machinations of what friendship entailed: he introduced his girlfriends to Sai, he'd dragged the Meijin out to interact with more than just his goban, he was careful not to overstep his boundaries when it came to sensitive topics like family. All Ogata asked was that Sai show him the same courtesy.

But Sai was an idiot, so Ogata reasoned there were just some times he'd have to take the initiative himself.

If a couple months into a relationship Sai still wasn't willing for anyone to meet his new beau - much less his best friend - than Ogata would just have to do it himself. For all the Go professional knew, Sai could be trapped in an abusive relationship; it wasn't like the beautiful man was altogether too experienced with romantic ties. He may be a genius in Go, but he was naive fool outside of the board and could be easily manipulated by a black widow of a woman.

So Ogata was just doing his duty by ensuring the safety of his friend. That this entailed going over to Sai's apartment while Sai was still finishing up errands before heading home himself, certain that he would be meeting the new apple of Sai's eye - the phone call the Meijin had received before splitting ways with Ogata had clued the ninth-dan in - was just the way things had to be done. Once Ogata met the she-witch, ensured her character didn't require her to be burned at the metaphorical stake, then he and Sai could go back to their regular routine of late-night go games and _Sai not ignoring him, dammit._

Sai had given Ogata the key to his apartment the first week he'd been released from the hospital, at his friend's insistence. Ogata had wanted to be able to check up on him easily and have quick access should Sai somehow be rendered incapacitated and be incapable of answering the door. Sai clearly had forgotten about Ogata's copied key, whereas the bespectacled man had never seen reason to remind him.

He had about maybe ten or fifteen minutes before Sai got back to the apartment. The person on the other end of the phone call had apparently instructed Sai to pick up some Chinese food for dinner before he came home, and Ogata knew Sai's favorite Chinese restaurant was the one five blocks away.

Ogata didn't bother with knocking when he reached Sai's apartment door, merely twisting the key into the lock. It unfastened cleanly and he pushed open the door, greeted by the sight of Sai's well-lit apartment. Closing the door behind him, it wasn't long before soft footfalls reached Ogata's ears and he turned to face the hallway.

"Sai-?"

The voice stopped abruptly, as did the advancing footsteps. The one who had spoken the name had still advanced far enough into the light that Ogata could see him, even if the ninth-dan was having trouble processing what he was seeing.

_A kid._ He couldn't be older than eleven, with the tackiest hairstyle Ogata had ever seen - why dye just the bangs? - and vivid emerald eyes. He was a wiry little thing, with tight-fitting black jeans and a striped shirt with long, black sleeves and a patchwork star sewn above his heart. The black portion of his hair was tied back into an untidy ponytail, and if Ogata's eyes weren't deceiving him - that was definitely a glittery star clip pulling back some blond strands to the left. He would have looked deceivingly cute and innocent, except the look in those _green, green eyes_ was anything but simplistic.

Still, it was _just a kid._

"Who the hell are you?" Ogata asked bluntly.

The kid cocked his head, eyes sweeping over him. "Isn't that my question, mister? I was here first, ya know."

He definitely couldn't be Sai's illegitimate offspring. The boy was too old, and Sai just didn't have it in him for that kind of dirty little secret. _Relative, then? Or maybe a neighbor's kid he's babysitting?_ Ogata mused, taking a few steps in.

He stopped when the kid skittered a matching distance away, clearly distrustful. _Right, stranger danger,_ Ogata snorted inwardly. "Don't freak, bra- _kid_. I'm Sai's friend."

The kid inched forward a bit but an unsettling intensity had entered those eyes. _"Sai's friend?"_ the child echoed softly. The way he said it made it sound foreign, as if to change the meaning itself by intonation - to something more dirty, more unwelcome. Ogata shook off the feeling.

"Sai invited me over to play a game," Ogata lied smoothly. He'd had a few excuses handy, in case Sai's houseguest - he'd thought girlfriend, but clearly not - became suspicious of his appearance.

"A game?" the child repeated. Ogata really hated the echo because it didn't sound like the dim-witted repetition of a particularly stupid child; it was as if the kid was hearing something completely different from what Ogata was actually saying. A smile dawned on those lips and the kid drew forward so gracefully that Ogata didn't even register the diminishing distance between them. "What kind of game, mister? Is it a fun one?"

That sounded far too wrong coming from the lips of a child. Something very sick settled into Ogata's gut as the boy came to a stop barely a step away from him, mischievous smile drawing the lips up and _utterly dead_ green eyes meeting Ogata's bemused pair. "I like fun games," the child said softly, hands reaching up to grip the front of Ogata's suit lapels.

The man was a good two heads taller than the child but the action was enough to see what the intention was. Ogata was too stunned by just what was going on that he couldn't react quick enough to flinch away, his body freezing a cold spikes of horror stabbed their way up along the nape of his neck. He was pulled down just enough so that soft lips brushed his own with disturbing experience.

_"Wait-!"_ Ogata choked out, finally rocking back a step and looking visibly disturbed. He raised one arm to wipe away the traces of something truly heinous just as the doorknob rattled.

The handle turned and the door opened, "Hikaru? Why is the door unloc-"

The child didn't appear concerned, only slowly craning his head to take in the sight of Sai standing frozen in the doorway, violet eyes wide in shock and one hand still on the door handle.

Hikaru smiled - as pretty as a porcelain doll and about as sincere. "You invited your friend to play, Sai-san? You know that's going to be extra."

Horror. That's what came sweeping over Sai's face as the words registered. Ogata had never seen an expression like that on the other man before, and it lodged a lump in his throat as his mind raced to figure out the implications in the boy's words.

_A prostitute?_ Ogata's mind came to a screeching halt of disgust. Just as the boy looked to be about to continue speaking, however, Sai lurched forward; he grabbed Ogata by the front of his suit and practically dragged him forward with a strength his friend didn't even know he had. The boy stared at them as they passed, confusion clear in his eyes as he stepped back to allow more room.

"Sai, wait-" Ogata struggled to correct his own footing, stumbling as he was at being manhandled by the petite man. "What the hell is going on here! What is this kid-"

Sai unceremoniously shoved him out the door, but not before pulling him close enough to whisper in his ear. It sent a cold shiver down his spine at the sight of those narrowed violet eyes; it was the kind of look that screamed murder. Ogata didn't know Sai was even _capable_ of looking like that.

"If you've ruined the progress I've made, _Ogata,"_ Sai fairly hissed. _"I will never forgive you."_

The door slammed shut in his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Oh, Ogata... -sigh-
> 
> _Note 1)_ **On Hikaru** : His behaviour is going to be pretty... _erratic_. As explained, he's testing his boundaries with Sai (by being quite the little brat at times) while being utterly terrified of the possibility of Sai getting fed up with him. This is a common behaviour of kids that come from difficult backgrounds, and this boundary-testing will come up now and again until Sai and Hikaru's relationship gains more stability.
> 
> _Note 2)_ **On Ogata** : Ogata has a characteristic penchant for obsession in canon. I both toned it down (from the manhandling of children, because really - _WTF_ , Ogata? Who just _grabs kids from the street?_ ) and expanded on it _("Lalala, it's my key now~!")_. Maybe he's just sexually frustrated? I imagine Sai would be one of the most difficult love interests to deal with... Too much innocence - no matter what you do, you'll always feel guilty! XD
> 
> _Note 3)_ **On Sai** : I will be developing him slowly over the course of story. His history in this universe is actually quite... _something._ A reader also noted that he is coming across a bit too mature here. I can actually see that... I want to say it's a product of the Alternate Universe. Given these different circumstances (abused Hikaru, isolated Sai, Sai's troubled history), and being that Sai is an adult in the modern times - he's not going to act exactly like he did in canon. _He just simply can't._ He has other responsibilities (taxes, bills, relationships, a career) and he's grown up; he cannot fixate on Go like his ghost counterpart did. I also think he's rational enough to realize that acting as freely as he did with canon-Hikaru would not be well-received by this Hikaru. Even something as simple as a hug could potentially frighten the boy.
> 
> _Note 4)_ **The "Gate" and Hikaru's Job** : Yes, the story will go back there from time to time. I'm sorry, but it really isn't that easy to leave that kind of line of work once you're sucked into it - simply by virtue of the fact that the boss may not want you to leave. As for the cast in the Gate - they're important, in an off-screen kind of way. They influence Hikaru and his decisions later on in both subtle and un-subtle ways. You'll come across them in scenes, but they won't be as heavily featured as Sai, Hikaru, Ogata, the Touya clan, or even most of the canon cast. Dealing with the Gate is one more plot weaved into this story. :) And all of their names are going to be pretty whimsical, as they're all stage names. (Shanhai = Shanghai, Tomorou = Tomorrow, Rizumu = Rhythm, etc.)
> 
> _Note 5)_ **Rankings** : I was actually content to just let this one remain vague, but I've been getting questions about the details. (And some of you have even tried independently looking it up! Sorry, luvs - but you won't find it on the internet~!) So here's just a quick run-down:
> 
> (The next rank also includes the services of all preceding ranks.)
> 
> - _Vanilla_ : Hikaru's rank. Basic services (oral and intercourse). No kinks, toys, or multiples. One-on-one only.
> 
> - _Caramel_ : Chikara's and Mimi's rank. Includes multiple partners and fetish plays.
> 
> - _Toffee_ : Aoi's and Shanhai's rank. Includes BDSM, bloodplay, and various other kinks - although the injuries are never severe.
> 
> - _Choco_ : As good as being a sex slave. Includes body modifications (piercings, tattoos, brands), severe injury, and involuntary drug use.
> 
> - _Espresso_ : The equivalent of slavery. All those ranked in the Espresso rank are usually kidnapped and sold into the sex slave industry. Body modifications may be so severe as to actually amputate limbs. Those in Espresso tend to last no longer than a year.
> 
> **Aaaand that's it for this chapter!** Until next time, everyone~! **Reviews are a great motivation to continue** , so please drop one! :) As per usual...
> 
> _Questions, comments, concrit?_ Then **kindly drop a review.**


	5. Pattern Darning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : Wow, has it really been almost four months?! Let me start off by apologizing - for this story, it actually shouldn't have taken that long. I had a pretty terrible run with life for the past three months, however, and simply didn't have the time to write out this chapter before. But everything's settled back into its usual rhythm so it should be back to the ever-ambiguous every-month-update. XD
> 
> On another note, I got to visit Canada~! Really beautiful but waaay more exciting than I thought it would be. I barely missed getting trapped in Calgary courtesy of the landslide/flooding combination. YOU GUYS - YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE SAFE VACATION OPTION. XD
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.
> 
> **Pairings** : Ditto the last chapter. Please read the notes at the bottom for further explanation.
> 
> **Warnings** : Same as all previous chapters, although this chapter isn't that bad. :) Guys - stop crying!

## 

**Chapter Five**

### 

_Pattern Darning_

Hikaru didn't make a sound, standing closest to the goban as he waited for the older man to do something - make some excuse, any sort of explanation to clear the confusion Hikaru felt clouding his mind. His heartbeat was deceptively calm, his breaths even, and he almost managed to convince himself that he was not waiting with bated breath for a reason to trust Sai.

The urge to trust Sai was great; the urge to dismiss the man and his claims of being different was even moreso. Hikaru had been hurt far too many times in his short life, too distrustful of any hand held out to him for aide now. He was shocked by the other man's appearance in the apartment and though he would not admit it to himself, he had been hurt by the revelation that Sai was no different from any of the other men Hikaru encountered. He doesn't quite understand why he was so surprised by the idea of Sai being just like every other customer he had. He may have played the field differently but in the end - what did it matter? Hikaru was for sale and he could be bought; it was his own fault for getting caught up in the first place.

Sai remained by the door, back to Hikaru and head bowed - his shoulders were tense, everything about his posture exemplifying a coiled spring. One hand remained on the lock he had just clicked shut, having slammed the door in the face of the man from earlier. The Chinese food - mapo tofu, judging by the slowly-draining contents from the bagged containers - lay forgotten on the ground and inedible. Hikaru could not even guess at what was going in the Go professional's mind, as confused as he is by the previous scene.

_Caramel._ Hikaru just had to charge extra. He could handle it; there had to be some genuine shard of naïveté in Sai - he couldn't fake it _that_ well - and Hikaru could consider it as his own payment to the man for allowing him to feel some shred of hope. Even if it was for the briefest of moments, it had still been a moment of light in what had been years of the dark.

"His name is Ogata Seiji."

Hikaru was startled by the sudden statement. Sai had yet to turn around and address him directly, but his voice was calm as he continued on, "He's a friend of mine and a Go professional like myself. He used to stop by regularly but I specifically asked him not to recently. He ignored my request today and came without telling me."

Did that...change things? It took a moment for Hikaru's mind to catch up with the meaning in the words: Sai did not invite the man. The man came of his own volition - and judging by the surprise on his face when he first saw Hikaru, he hadn't been expecting the boy's presence either.

_Not Caramel,_ Hikaru realized suddenly. _I have not been sold._

He tried to stifle the surge of hope; the knowledge that he hadn't been betrayed was relieving. There was the matter of instant distrust when it came to interacting with adults that Hikaru wasn't prepared to see, but to the boy, it wasn't so much an issue as it was a necessary survival skill. It was always better to assume that the person you met was out to hurt and use you rather than to naïvely believe in them.

"Ah - sorry for the misunderstanding," Hikaru started glibly, one hand scratching the back of his neck in a gesture of embarrassment. It was cruder than what he usually did but there was something juvenile and innocent about it. "I didn't mean to start trouble between you and your friend, Sai-san."

"Hikaru, that isn't the issue here and you know it," Sai cut in.

There was an issue? Granted, to Sai, Hikaru had a lot of 'issues' - but there was a fat lot of good the older man could do about it. Between Hikaru and the Man in the White Suit, however, the only issue was the -

_Oh shit,_ Hikaru's eyes widened. "I- I didn't know! I thought- well, it doesn't matter what I thought! Shit, I didn't mean to - Sai, we have to catch him!"

Sai had already whipped around at his panicked tone but the man was frozen at hearing his name pass those lips without an honorific. If it hadn't been for the sheer terror sweeping over the boy's face, Sai would have thought he was dealing with his ever-energetic dreamverse counterpart. Hikaru dashed by him, unlocking and throwing open the door before Sai could react-

Only to come face-to-chest with a similarly frozen Ogata.

_"You-"_ Sai started, tone dropping into the freezing temperatures.

"You're still here!" Hikaru exclaimed, sounding relieved. "Sorry about earlier - it was totally a joke, you know? Listen, Sai didn't mean to throw you out, he just doesn't like having his rules broken... Come in, come in!"

Ogata just stared at the brilliantly smiling child. He's had his fair share of events and politics, though, and knew a fake smile when he saw one. The pieces of the puzzle - who this child was and, more importantly to Ogata, what he meant to Sai - were forming but the picture remained unclear. The actions previous hinted at something horrible and Ogata wouldn't discount it yet - but he knows Sai and the younger man certainly isn't a pedophile.

He chanced a look at the Meijin. The long-haired male appeared torn between confusion, wariness, and murderous rage. (The last reserved specifically for Ogata.) But the child was already grabbing at Ogata's arm - Sai's eyes visibly narrowed - and pulling the taller man inside.

"-and I know that joke was in really bad taste but your expression was totally priceless!" Hikaru continued to babble on.

"Hikaru, I think Ogata-san has to go home," Sai interrupted in a deceptively calm tone. The daggers he was practically shooting from his eyes did little to hide the fact that this was an order. For a moment, Ogata thought to agree with the other man. He had no desire to further upset his friend, especially given that Sai looked like he wasn't about to forgive him and return to his usually chipper self any time soon.

Then again, the two's dinner was splattered all over the floor. Ogata had made the mistake of letting Sai make him ramen one time; it was practically the ninth-dan's _moral duty_ to make sure this child wouldn't have to swallow down some poison the misguided Meijin concocted.

"Well, I haven't had dinner yet," Ogata idly contributed, smirk spreading across his lips. Sai's eyes narrowed at him, though the boy had noticeably perked up. "Why don't I cook something up?"

Sai was already interjecting, "That is unnecessary-"

"But then what're we gonna do about food?" Hikaru piped up, looking up at the Meijin with eyes practically begging to be served anything but what Sai made. Ogata could completely sympathize.

It went right over Sai's head, "I could make some curry-"

"Yes, because that's nutritious," Ogata drawled, striding in and utterly ignoring Sai's subsequent squawk of indignation. "I bet when you aren't poisoning the poor kid with your homemade recipes, you're trying to supplement him with convenience store goods or cheap take-out?"

Sai's mouth clicked shut, a brief flash of visible guilt staining the discontent expression. Ogata snorted, heading towards the kitchen as Hikaru grabbed one of the hand-towels and began to clean up the mess at the entryway. Standing aside awkwardly as the situation essentially spun out of his control, Sai gave an exasperated huff as his friend started to rummage through his refrigerator for ingredients.

Once Hikaru wandered back down the hall to throw the towel into the laundry, Sai entered the kitchen. Ogata was already at work chopping up vegetables - bamboo shoots and bell pepper - for the stir fry, having dug out an apron that Sai didn't know he owned from one of the kitchen drawers. Much to Sai's agitation, his friend had always been the better cook; Ogata had had more experience living independently at a younger age than Sai had, used to taking care of himself whereas Sai had always had someone - whether it be a maid or his aunt - to cook and clean for him.

"I'm still very upset with you," Sai said, leaning against the counter to keep one eye out in case Hikaru returned. "We will be talking about this."

Ogata didn't even pause in his chopping, "I look forward to it. I hope this promised talk also involves why you have a _child hooker_ in your apartment as well."

Sai outright flinched at the crude labeling, one hand clamping down on the taller man's arm, "Do not call him that! Hikaru is just... He's just _lost."_

"There's a very big difference between teenage rebellion and committing a felony, Sai," Ogata pointed out waspishly.

"We will not talk about this here!" the Meijin snapped back.

Ogata scoffed, "So I finally get your attention, huh?"

"What?" Sai blinked, taken aback.

"Just get out of the kitchen, would you? It's not exactly spacious," Ogata waved off irritably. He started to fry the veggies just as Hikaru returned, prompting Sai to paste another smile on his face for the boy's benefit. Hikaru just gave him a strange look then turned his attention to Ogata - who was more concerned with making sure the meat wasn't going to burn to notice.

"Huh," Hikaru mused, staring at the bespectacled man contemplatively. "I didn't know Sai had an apron."

"I bet he didn't either," Ogata returned evenly. To Sai's ever-growing indignation, Hikaru snickered.

Ogata looked over at the boy as he cut the pork cutlet into strips. "I never did get your name, kid," the man pointed out.

Hikaru looked panicked for a moment, confusing the go pro. _It's just your name,_ Ogata thought in consternation. Sai shifted subtly, a pained look crossing his own features before they morphed into resolution. Ogata's unwarranted intrusion was still distasteful but at the very least, it could prove to provide some good. "This is Shindou Hikaru," Sai introduced, placing one hand on the boy's shoulder. "He's my student."

Ogata dropped the pair of cooking chopsticks he was using to fry the pork, eyes wide and as close to gaping as Sai had ever seen before. Hikaru felt stiff under Sai's hand but the Meijin was keeping his eyes on his friend, letting him know without saying a word that if he said one thing wrong, there was a good chance he'd be viewed as irredeemable.

"That wasn't exactly what I was expecting to hear," Ogata admitted after having taken a moment to regain his composure. The pork started to sizzle alarmingly, drawing the ninth-dan's attention away. Hikaru shook off Sai's hand at the other's man inattention, giving his self-proclaimed 'mentor' a befuddled look as he stepped closer to the stove in order to watch Ogata cook. Sai let him go with a tolerant look, mildly put-off by the way Hikaru approached the other Go pro - the close proximity in which Hikaru stood to Ogata wasn't as distant as courtesy dictated.

"What did you want to hear?" Hikaru asked curiously.

Sai didn't much like that question. It implied something dishonest, as if there was something wrong with _Hikaru_ being _Sai's_ student - a sense of unworthiness. It was clear Hikaru was trying to probe Ogata for a reaction to base future interactions on. If a 'professional go player' and 'Sai's friend' acts _this way,_ then he should act _that way..._

But Sai didn't want Hikaru to act as anything or anyone but Hikaru.

Ogata didn't say anything for a moment, instead adding his chopped vegetables to the stir fry. He turned to the cabinets, expertly pulling out what he needed - garlic powder, soy sauce, sesame oil, chili pepper - under Hikaru's mystified gaze. The boy wondered just how well Ogata and Sai got along, if the bespectacled man already knew where Sai kept all of his spices.

"What I want is a bit complicated, kid," Ogata said casually. "Although it would be nice to hear that that damn Kuwabara's tongue rotted away and he can't speak anymore."

Hikaru openly stared at him, taken aback by the seemingly random response. Sai sputtered a little, managing out a scandalized " _Seiji!_ What a _horrible_ thing to say!"

Ogata snorted, adjusting his glasses - in what Hikaru thought was a superfluous movement, just in order to look a bit more sinister. (Which, Hikaru could admit, the man pulled off rather well.) "Most people would agree that it would be an improvement," Ogata returned evenly and without the slightest bit of remorse.

"Is this because of your last match-?" Sai cut himself off as Ogata's expression darkened. Kuwabara Honinbou was clever old man that guarded his title like a coiled snake, and he seemed to have made a hobby of going out of his way to tease or otherwise torment Ogata. In Sai's (sometimes a bit too optimistic) opinion, it was just proof that Kuwabara found the bespectacled ninth-dan worthy of being his rival and rattled him accordingly. Ogata did not share this opinion.

"That damn old codger... He better not die until I claim his title-!" Ogata swore under his breath.

Hikaru couldn't choke back a laugh, "Are you sure you're a Go pro? You're way cooler than Sai!"

"Hikaru-!" It was amazing how fast Sai could be reduced to a pitifully childish tone and tears. "How could you!"

Ogata smirked. In a way, he supposed he was scoring good points with the kid - and any kid that Sai deemed important enough to claim as a student was someone that Ogata wanted to be on the good side of. If the kid liked him well enough, this would (hopefully) help in getting along better with his more-than-awkward friend. Ogata had made a point of not getting involved with anyone who had kids - but Sai was the exception, as usual.

"So what rank are you? Are you an insei?" Ogata posed to the boy. Hikaru continued to stand at his elbow, the close proximity unnerving given what he had attempted earlier. Sai had better explain what was up with the kid or Ogata was going to give in to the urge to wring someone's neck. Given the way this week had been going, it would probably be Ashiwara's - the little dick wouldn't stop trying to strike up conversation with him whenever Saeki rejected him.

Ogata was not prepared for Hikaru's blank look of incomprehension. The lack of reply made him stare back bemusedly, lurching the kitchen into a mutual silence of confusion.

"He's still learning," Sai's tone was cheerful but the look he was giving Ogata over Hikaru's head promised hell if the bespectacled man didn't tread carefully. Ogata rose an eyebrow, keeping his shock locked within. Hikaru's blank expression evened out into bland acceptance, seemingly satisfied at letting Sai answer the question for him.

_Beginner,_ Ogata categorized. Why on earth would Sai choose someone so green to mentor? He gave the child a more thorough once-over, dissatisfied over just how complicated a mere _kid_ could be. Stupid hairstyle, strange fashion sense, impeccable nails...

"Are your nails painted?" Ogata asked suddenly, the incredulity not quite void in his tone.

Hikaru shoved his hands into his pockets, suddenly finding something very fascinating in Sai's general area as he shuffled closer to the long-haired man. "It's just a shiner coat," was what Ogata heard the kid mutter in a reply.

"So you paint your nails?" Ogata persisted, not quite sure why this was bothering him as much as it did. True, the kid was a bit on the girly side - what with that glittery hair clip and all - but Ogata didn't think even many primary school _girls_ actually had manicures.

"...it looks cleaner like this," Hikaru elaborated, managing to inject some confidence into his tone. The smile he pasted on was reminiscent of the one Ogata had been treated to when it had just been the two of them, making the Go pro distinctly uncomfortable.

"There's nothing wrong with a coat of paint on your nails," Sai interjected in a severe tone. The Meijin gave his young charge a considering look. "...I actually used to paint my nails and wear lipstick, even though I was a bit older than you, Hikaru."

The deadpan expressions this earned him made him cringe.

"It was in back then!" Sai cried defensively. The 80s had been a... _colorful_ time for Sai.

Ogata snorted, clearly dismissing the entire line of conversation. "I suppose you two are suited for each other then," he said, switching off the stove. "Help me set the table, kid."

_Why is everyone giving me chores?_ Hikaru mused inwardly but obediently did as instructed. Hikaru gave the bespectacled man three plates, then set a napkin and pair of chopsticks for each of them on the table. Sai had headed for the refrigerator, the narrow area of the kitchen forcing him to brush against Ogata's backside to get past him. Hikaru noted the way the blond man stiffened, scooting closer to the frying pan, eyes narrowing behind his glasses.

And then Ogata Seiji made sense to him.

_That...has the potential to be amusing,_ Hikaru thought suddenly, small smile turning his lips as he watched the two men concentrate on their separate tasks.

"Beer, juice, water, or tea?" Sai asked the other two.

"Beer," Ogata answered without pause.

"Beer!" Hikaru echoed with a wide grin. The grin grew at the unimpressed looks both men threw him.

Sai pulled out a Kirin beer and two bottles of Pocari Sweat. Ogata had pulled Hikaru back in to help carry out their food to the table, Sai trailing behind them and placing the drinks on the table after the plates had been settled. Hikaru flopped into his chair just as Sai sank into his, Ogata having returned to the kitchen to inspect the contents of the cupboards.

"Where's the dried edamame crackers?" he asked Sai.

"I...have those?" was Sai's weak response.

Ogata ignored him, having found said crackers lodged behind the two bags of Honey Twists that the Meijin had bought for Hikaru. There were definitely a lot more variety of snacks present than the last time Ogata had been over - a result of having a student now? The relationship between Sai and Hikaru seemed a bit more than just that but the ninth-dan wouldn't press it for now.

Ogata returned to his seat with the bag in hand. He doled some out onto Hikaru's plate at the boy's inquisitive stare, pouring some onto his own plate afterwards.

"I don't even like edamame crackers," Sai noted aloud, sounding just a tiny bit distressed.

Ogata gave him a very tolerant look, "Of course not. I got these."

Hikaru looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Let's eat," Ogata pushed. He gave Hikaru a smirk. "I promise it's edible, although even _carrion_ is probably better than anything this guy cooks up."

_"Seiji!"_

 

_

 

It was his first time shopping with Sai. Hikaru frowned at the numerous shirts and pants that littered the floor before him, each propped into a carefully-coordinated outfit. Sai's tastes were hard to gauge, given the man's personality: graceful and serene one moment, pitiful and childish the next. It was as vexing as it was endearing, but it made Sai's responses a bit harder to predict for Hikaru. This could be extended into his fashion; Sai dressed very well in suits but dressed rather plainly outside of formal events. The most flamboyant thing about the Go pro was his earrings but even they were understated to a certain degree.

Which outfit would Sai prefer to see Hikaru in?

….did Sai even have any such preference?

According to the man, he didn't. Hikaru was fairly certain that as long as he didn't go out looking too absurd, Sai wouldn't much care one way or another. He'd never said anything about Hikaru's fashion, even as his nail polish would sometimes veer into outright flamboyant or his hair accessories most decidedly feminine. Sai focused more on Hikaru's skills or his health, never giving much attention to how Hikaru dressed outside of making sure it was appropriate for the weather.

Which hinted at the subdued thought of, _should_ Sai have a preference regarding what Hikaru wore?

_It's complicated now,_ Hikaru mused, picking up a pair of salmon pink pants before discarding them after careful consideration. _He's made everything complicated._

Hikaru had been very good at playing his role. He dressed and acted accordingly for his customers, having gotten some experience with their more carnal tastes. Figuring out what they did and didn't like to look at was part of his new skill set.

But Sai had been adamant about 'Hikaru being Hikaru'. Personal tastes, such as food or fashion, shouldn't be so blatantly dictated by others. Sai had run through every available juice in his neighborhood's nearest convenience store for two straight weeks, trying to figure out which ones Hikaru actually preferred (and utterly ignoring Hikaru's "I like them all, Sai-san!"). He'd managed to deduce, through careful observation of both Hikaru's expressions and actions, that the boy liked strawberry Ramune best, preferred honeydew Calpis while doing homework, and absolutely hated peach-flavored anything. Hikaru hadn't known whether to be impressed or embarrassed by the pro's correct deductions.

Hikaru chose the dark red cargo pants with a blue belt, along with a cream-colored short-sleeved shirt whose front was dominated by the Union Jack and a plain black, long-sleeved shirt underneath. He'd wear his khaki-colored high top shoes to match but first he had to do something with his hair.

Hikaru tugged at his bangs in irritation. They'd need to be re-dyed and cut soon; they were starting to show at the roots and fall into his eyes. Hopefully Satomi would be free some time next week, since the last time Hikaru had tried to cut his hair himself, his bangs had been cut at an angle and Masaki hadn't stopped chuckling every time he saw him until Satomi took pity and fixed it.

He smoothed his bangs back and secured them in place with a wide, red yarn-knitted headband. Hikaru scrutinized himself in the bathroom mirror; he'd trimmed his eyebrows just a few days ago so there was no need for a touch-up yet. All in all, Hikaru thought he looked good.

He slipped his wallet, keys, and cellphone into his pockets. His eyes idled over the myriad of bracelets and necklaces he left stored in a simple box near his rolled up futon, but decided to forego the jewelry just in case Sai thought he was overdoing it already with the headband.

"...where are you going?"

Hikaru started but didn't pause in his tread towards the front door. He turned his attention to his mother as he passed her; she was reclined on the sofa, half her attention on the television as she took a long drag from her joint. By the smell alone, he knew it wasn't tobacco - she had been coughing pretty badly lately and he wondered if this new drug was the one responsible for scorching her throat. He couldn't find it in himself to really care, though.

"Does it matter?" he asked her, finally stopping to really gauge her response. It was curiosity, really - _did_ it matter to her where he went? Had she finally noticed him?

She turned her face back towards the television, "Don't do anything stupid. You're already troublesome enough just being here."

Hikaru smiled at her, almost on reflex - then turned back to continue walking out, laughing the entire way.

 

_

 

Sai had told him to meet at Meguro station. It was a little farther out than Hikaru was used to but Sai did promise to reimburse him for his travelling expenses. The man had not been shy in pointing out that it would have been much easier to just meet at the pro's apartment and then leave together, but Hikaru had wanted the chance to get dressed up properly and had rejected him.

Sai waited for him by the southern exit. Hikaru noted in amusement the pro was dressed blandly - simple black slacks, a white button-up, and a dark blue sweater. His hair had been pulled back into a neat ponytail, some of the longer strands at the front left alone to brush at his cheeks. He was already starting to earn some envious gazes; a few girls here and there would titter as they passed him, gushing quietly over his looks.

_Too bad he's such a dork,_ Hikaru mused. He raised a hand in hello and smiled as he neared the Go pro. Sai's responding smile was wide and sincere, alleviating some of the tension in Hikaru's shoulders as he measured it.

"So where did you want to go, Sai-san?" Hikaru asked, as the two exited the station. Sai had his attention on the sidewalk while looking chipper as can be. That was good, at least - Hikaru was still feeling a bit out of sorts and didn't know if he could muster up the energy to play along quite yet.

"There's a good furniture store on Interior Street," Sai explained. "It's called Geographica. We can get most of what we want there, but first I think we should get something to eat. You haven't eaten lunch yet, right?"

"Haha, this is just like a date," Hikaru sing-songed.

"But it's not," Sai stated in a tone that brooked no argument.

Hikaru hummed noncommittally, falling into step with the pro. Sai glanced at him as if to take stock but Hikaru didn't know what the man was looking for - or seeing, for that matter. He thought he saw a small frown flit across the pro's features but it was gone before he could be sure and a small smile resumed occupancy on the man's lips.

It was only a 20 minute walk but Sai filled up the time with idle chatter about everything, from dealing with a drunk Ogata to playing go in the pro leagues.

"I thought Go pros would be super boring," Hikaru mused aloud. "But you're so freakin' weird and Ogata-san just has this kind of sinister air around him. Your games must be so interesting..."

Sai looked way too pleased by this statement. Hikaru didn't know why; he's sure the man was complimented near-constantly just for being a Go pro.

"Children and adults, men and women - all can play go," Sai said, his smile turning soft - almost reverent. "Any game, from a beginner's to the top tier player's, can be beautiful."

_He's such a weirdo!_ Hikaru thought. He couldn't help but smile anyway.

They ended up stopping at a small family restaurant nestled between an ironworks store and a handmade pottery stand. It was pretty crowded so they acquiesced to sharing their table with an elderly couple. The waitress - looking a bit harried but otherwise professionally cheerful - was prompt with service.

Ignoring his coke for now, Hikaru gave the menu a cursory look. In an establishment such as this place, Sai stood out; the man's very posture seemed regal and with his good looks, he'd be conspicuous in any place under four stars. It was the kind of look Yamaguchi had wished to have but instead he boasted his like a pig hoarding filth; Sai carried himself like the nobility without ever seeming arrogant about it. It was quite unlike anything Hikaru had ever seen before.

"What are you getting, Hikaru?" Sai asked.

"The garden salad." It was cheap and didn't add much in the way of calories.

Sai's eyes snapped up to meet their green counterparts, "That's not very filling. We should eat a hearty lunch because we'll be running around all day."

"I'll be fine," Hikaru dismissed, uncomfortable. Sai looked back down at the menu, an unreadable look on his face. These types of looks were becoming more common as the days went on; Sai appeared to be examining Hikaru's every move, somehow reading deeper into it and coming up with answers that left Hikaru feeling vulnerable.

The waitress returned with a strained smile to take their orders just as Hikaru forced himself to relax.

"I'll have the garden salad with the house dressing," Hikaru ordered. The waitress nodded, but when Hikaru didn't continue with a more substantial order, she turned to Sai with only the barest twitch in her expression.

Sai smiled at her, "We'll also have two orders of yakitori, one order of agedashi tofu, the house fried rice, the chicken wings, chili spaghetti, katsu-donburi, and, hm...the yakiniku looks good. We'll take an order of that as well."

The waitress's smile was bright, "I'll put your orders in right away then, sir!"

"We'll keep one menu, if it's not too much trouble. The parfaits here look delicious..."

She left with a tinkling laugh. Hikaru was staring at Sai with very wide eyes. "Uh...feeling pretty hungry today, Sai-san?"

"I suppose," Sai agreed winningly. "Everything looked so good! I expect your help in eating it, Hikaru~!"

How transparent. It was unbearably sweet.

Hikaru propped an elbow on the table, leaning his cheek against his upright fist while a small smile lit up his lips. "So how's Ogata?" Hikaru asked.

Sai's face darkened almost comically. Hikaru wondered what exactly the man had done to get such a reaction, especially as Sai did not seem the type to hold grudges against friends.

"He's fine," Sai's expression turned troubled. "Hikaru...what do you think of Ogata?"

This was starting to sound ridiculously like a nervous parent gauging their child's opinion on a possible new step-parent. Hikaru bit back a laugh.

"He's cool," Hikaru shrugged. "I didn't expect Go players like him. He's...interesting." In an amusing way, at least.

Hikaru didn't know what Sai chose to make of that - the pro only nodded in response. The silence wasn't uncomfortable between them but it did give Hikaru an unintended opportunity to eavesdrop on the elderly couple next to them. The elderly pair sharing their table were discussing in excited tones the exploits of their toddler grandson. Hikaru hadn't meant to overhear but the close proximity made it hard. The way the grandfather proudly declared the boy got his sense of adventure from him sent a spike of irritation into Hikaru's heart.

"So what are we getting, furniture-wise?" Hikaru asked, if only to distract himself.

Sai shuffled through his pockets, pulling out a folded piece of paper with a small cry of triumph. He looked it over analytically, dark eyes oddly concentrated as they roved over the words. "Well, I was thinking we had a bit of remodeling ahead of us so we actually have a fair bit of shopping to do. Unfortunately, my apartment isn't that big.

"From Geographica, we can get the bookshelves, an entertainment center, and a new bedset for you. There's a linen shop about a block away where we can get some blankets and pillows, and we'll have to take the rail to Akihabara - I want to get a TV and some more books for you to read there."

Hikaru was openly staring at him, "That's...quite a list. Why does it feel like I'm moving in with you?"

"Because you practically are," Sai stated point-blank. He held Hikaru's eyes, keeping his voice even and sincere as he spoke. "And that's a good thing, Hikaru."

Hikaru looked away with a small shrug, "I guess so. I'll need to go back to my mom's place every now and then, though."

Sai nodded, "I suppose that's fair..."

He looked like he wanted to say more but kept his words at bay, instead taking a sip from his drink. Unused to the silence stretching between them, Hikaru began to talk about both anything and nothing. It was something he'd gotten used to doing out of necessity; he had never wanted to bore a customer before and the ones who usually picked him did so believing he was a chatterer.

It wasn't that Hikaru was quiet - just that even he had his moments where he preferred to think to himself rather than fill in the void with meaningless talk. But that wasn't what he was bought for and he'd learned quickly enough that people would listen to anything he said so long as it was what they expected him to say.

Sai kept his attention on the boy, making the proper sounds to show he was listening to Hikaru drone on. There was a speculative glint to his eyes that Hikaru found hard to decipher but with each passing comment, Hikaru found his audience's understanding grow sharper and sharper.

Hikaru almost felt relieved when the waitress returned with their food. Fortunately, the elderly couple had finished their own meal and were now only quietly conversing over identical cups of tea, leaving most of the free space empty on the table. Sai and the waitress tried as best as they could to keep most of the dishes on the appropriate side, although some couldn't help but be pushed closer and closer to the other side. The elderly pair waved off their younger counterparts' concerns with gentle smiles, assuring them that it was fine and no trouble.

Hikaru had been careful about rationing his own food. It wasn't some misguided attempt at dieting - that was mostly a concern for the girls and most of the older Gate workers. No, Hikaru had only ever worried about seeming like a pig when dining out with a client. That's why he took smaller portions and tried to avoid ordering for himself while out. It was much easier to let the client play out their fantasy date when they did all of the work and Hikaru just had to play along.

It had been unusual with Yamaguchi - the man forced five-star restaurant food down his throat in a show of superiority, only to be followed by the most depraved of acts. Kousaka had simply never bothered; the only edible things he bought for Hikaru were a pack of lollipops to make up for how badly he'd treated the boy the night before. (The amount of candy always matched the number of bruises he'd wake up with.) Amekura was more natural, choosing mundane courses but always doing the ordering for Hikaru. It was as obvious a show of control that the piano teacher ever showed.

They would never push him to eat more, unconcerned with his eating habits as other things filled their mind while Hikaru was with them. That's why it was a bit surprising when Sai - keeping up bright chatter about the son of his non-Ogata Go pro friend or something - casually and continually added more food to his plate than Hikaru first picked at. Soon enough, their plates were even in the amount of food and Hikaru couldn't help but stare at his in bemusement.

It wasn't that he was always starving, per se - but it was still a rare occurrence to feel completely full these days. It had gotten easier, in a way, after he took up working under Masaki; those first few months after his mom stopped caring whether he ate or not had been beyond terrible. It felt as if his stomach was under revolt and he'd even resorted to stealing scraps outside of convenience stores - if he wasn't shoplifting from them. Having food to eat that he wouldn't be paying for - with either his own money or body - felt like a novelty at this point.

Only after they'd already demolished more than half of their food did Sai pick up talking again. "Do you remember Seiji saying something about insei?"

Hikaru swallowed his bite of chili spaghetti, trying to rack his brain to identify the word. While Ogata hadn't been over long, that didn't seem to deter the man from gleefully explaining certain aspects of the Go pro life to Hikaru. Some of the explanations hadn't seemed very impartial but Hikaru attributed that to Ogata's colorful personality.

"Seiji-san said, and I quote, 'They're annoying little brats that are better at Go than most other annoying little brats, but they think that just because they can impress some lax-handed fourth-dan that they have a right to shoot off their obnoxious, ignorant-"

" _Yes,_ well, I see he certainly taught you _something,"_ Sai interrupted, face turning red - although it was hard to tell whether it was from embarrassment or anger. Hikaru would have laughed at the man's expression but he was too busy being impressed by his own Ogata imitation that he hadn't noticed.

"And whatever a 'honinbou' is, I'm pretty sure you don't want to be it," Hikaru added. "He seemed particularly visceral about that title."

"...he's always been a bit intense," Sai allowed hollowly.

Hikaru snorted, "I'll say." _It's hard to tell what he wants to fuck more, you or the Go board._

"Well, aside from Seiji's...interesting description of insei," Sai started again, picking up the momentum he had lost. "All you really need to know about them is that they're notable young Go players. They enter the insei program to better their skills, and those that are in the top 16 are actually allowed to play in the Go examinations without having to go through the preliminaries."

"Sounds exciting," Hikaru commented. He didn't look very excited. It wasn't the aspect of Go playing that caused the disinterest - he was slowly but surely becoming enthralled with the game. Hikaru liked the fact that he was learning a new skill that had nothing to do with 'Itsuka'. Go was becoming something that gave him the feeling of a new breath of life, free from the cogs and wheels of Itsuka and the Gate. Go was _Hikaru's_ and _Hikaru's alone._

No, what caused that lack of interest was the prospect of spending money. Enrolling in something as prestigious as a Go program surely wasn't free; Hikaru was having enough trouble keeping up with his own food, school, and phone expenses. Becoming an insei would mean taking on more than just Amekura.

"I was thinking of enrolling you in it," Sai said.

Hikaru almost choked on his bite of yakitori. He managed to swallow it down with a generous gulp of coke, taking in Sai's determined expression even as the man fiddled with his agedashi tofu.

"Sai-san," Hikaru began tentatively, barely stifling the urge to yelp out an exasperated 'what the hell are you thinking?' "I've only played one game of Go that wasn't shidougo - and I didn't even get to finish it. I don't think I'd last more than a couple moves in against what sounds like the young elite of the Go world."

Sia set his chopsticks down, looking both surprised and troubled. "Well, of course I didn't intend on enrolling you now, Hikaru! I meant a little further down the road, when you've gained a bit more experience."

Hikaru cocked his head to the side in question, "Experience? How? I'm not exactly surrounded by ample opportunities to play, or even people around my level to play..." Especially since Tomorou was still hanging around the Gate (and subsequently, Shanhai) like a particularly destructive parasite.

Sai's face brightened instantly, as if something really good came to mind. "Don't you have a Go club at school? Why don't you join it?"

Hikaru snorted, muttering an inaudible "I'm pretty sure I gave that club president some experience of his own..."

Sai blinked, "What?"

"I said I can't pay the club fees," Hikaru replied stoically. _Assuming they're large enough to have them._

Sai looked even happier, "Oh, it's that big? Don't worry, Hikaru - I can pay them for you. You don't need to worry about school expenses!"

Another thought seemed to enter the pro's head, as the man's expression slowly soured. Something unpleasant, then; Hikaru steeled himself, already half-suspecting what would next come out of Sai's mouth.

"Hikaru...you don't pay your own tuition, do you?" Sai asked. His tone was carefully bland, but there was a hard coldness to his eyes that suggested he already knew the answer to his question.

Hikaru was inclined to lie. He almost did, in that moment; he would have said anything just so that Sai wouldn't look so frightening. But somehow, Hikaru knew that Sai would be able to call his fib; it screamed out from the very posture of the man. Hikaru wondered if his body language was as easy to read as Sai made it out to be.

"You won't like the answer to that, Sai-san," Hikaru answered carefully. It was the only reply he could think of that still left him room to lie later. Just in case.

Sai stilled. The table was lurched into a stiff silence, shadows falling across the Meijin's face as the elderly couple stood and left, chattering amicably all the while - in sharp contrast to severe atmosphere around their former tablemates.

"No," Sai allowed softly. "I suppose I won't."

Then he pushed the rest of the yakiniku onto Hikaru's plate in a clear command to eat more.

 

_

 

They'd left the restaurant 45 minutes later, but that was only because Sai just _had_ to try the green tea parfait, and didn't the mango-almond parfait look so good, Hikaru? Thus Hikaru found himself uncomfortably full and walking in step with the older man as they made their way to their next destination.

Geographica was four stories tall, lit mostly by antiquated hanging chandeliers and thoroughly crowded by every piece of furniture imaginable. On the outside, it looked compact and fit into the crowded mold of Interior Street; it was all sharp angles and without much spark, especially in contrast to the flashing neon lights and leering patrons of the joints that Hikaru usually found himself at. Inside, most of the interior was shining tiled floors interspersed with the occasional square of burgundy carpeting, the furniture itself dark-paneled wood of Western origin and looking elegant.

A man caught notice of Hikaru first, initially looking dismissive - until his eyes found Sai. A smile lit the his face as he made his way forward, weaving past furniture and people alike as he approached. He didn't look like a salesperson, donned as he was in a tidy suit, but the way he carried himself was with an air of authority. Manager, or something close to it, Hikaru filed away internally. He had as little interest in conversing with the man as the man did upon first seeing him, and thus fell back a step from Sai, welcoming the anonymity as Sai's attention fell to the greeter.

"Fujiwara-san! Welcome, welcome!" the man greeted cordially, professional smile on full-force. Hikaru spitefully thought his own was better but wisely didn't voice this opinion. Just because Sai had resumed his usual good cheer didn't mean Hikaru couldn't tell there was still something bothering the older male.

"Hirano-san!" Sai nodded. "It's been a long time. I'm glad to see business is doing well."

The man chortled, "All thanks to our kindly investors and customers! I heard about your last match - I was telling my wife all about you, you see! We were so impressed when you..."

Hikaru tuned out the conversation. Although partially hidden behind Sai, he could feel a few stares on him; most were from curious workers of the store, intrigued by their manager's near-simpering attitude to the beautiful man before him. A passing couple gave Hikaru a disgruntled look after a once-over of his outfit but quickly switched their focus back to the dining table they were solemnly critiquing.

Hikaru's eyes caught on an older man further in, besides the cluttered aisle of posh stools and bar chairs. He looked well-off - well, everyone looked well-off in this store - dressed in a finely-tailored suit and graying hair combed back into a neat style. He was facing the chairs, but every so often his eyes would glance over at Hikaru. Hikaru caught his eye purposely, making sure to hold the man's gaze as he drew his lips up into a slow smile.

A sweater-clad back promptly blocked his view.

Hikaru blinked up at Sai, who had yet to stop casually chatting with the manager of the store. For a moment, he thought the man had done it unintentionally and tried to step around him - only to have Sai clamp a hand on his shoulder as he finished off his conversation with a winning smile and a "I'm actually here to buy a few pieces, Hirano-san. I've decided to remodel my apartment, you see."

Hirano looked like he'd just about throw himself to the floor in a mix of gratitude and elation. "Then you came to the right place, Fujiwara-san! What pieces in particular were you interested in? Furniture, kitchen, decorative-?"

Sai told the man what he was looking for, which had Hirano gearing up to give them the grand tour. The manager even barked at a few of his employees to pull out the best pieces the store had in stock. The man that had been making eyes at Hikaru earlier had looked mildly thoughtful before his gaze traveled away from the boy and to the man next to him. Hikaru didn't know what he saw - but whatever it was caused his face to flush paper white before he turned and hurried away, shuffling further into the cluttered aisle of stools and out of sight. When Hikaru turned to look at Sai, the man had resumed his politely smiling face.

"We're looking for a space-conserving bedset. Hirano-san," Sai said, starting to follow the man as he lead them further into the store. Hikaru followed, still looking mildly puzzled by what happened earlier. "Something good for a teenager."

Hirano glanced back at Hikaru, looking thoughtful. "I understand. We have quite a few furniture designs that are becoming popular now!"

Hikaru couldn't have cared less. Thus he was given another mild shock when, as they reached the display room with the latest trending bedroom designs, Sai turned to him and told him to pick whichever one he liked best. Hirano seemed equally shocked but dutifully stepped out of the way to give Hikaru a better view.

Hikaru's eyes trailed over the closest one. There were no price tags. _That expensive, huh?_ Hikaru mused, feeling pressured. It was one thing to get free meals and lodging from Sai, but it was another to be given free reign to buy whatever he wanted. It was more than just buying furniture; it was cementing a place for him to stay at, as if he were laying claim to that apartment.

He was designing his home.

Hikaru, understandably, froze.

Sai quietly thanked Hirano but then requested he leave Sai and Hikaru alone to "better decide things." Hirano, ever eager to please, ushered both himself and the accompanying salesgirl out of the showroom to give them Sai's desired alone time.

"I'm fine with whatever you get, Sai-san," Hikaru said as soon as Hirano disappeared from sight.

"But I want you to pick, Hikaru," Sai replied instantly. It sounded as if he had expected this.

"It doesn't matter to me, it's your place," Hikaru returned.

Sai was quiet for a moment. Alone in the room, they stood apart; Sai was stationed closer to the door, fingers ghosting over the dresser of a bedroom set designed for a girl. His eyes were on Hikaru standing a few meters away, the boy having idled further in at Sai's prodding. He was partially leaning against the desk of what looked to be the bedroom set designed for a college student, his own green eyes latched somewhere over Sai's shoulder in hopes of creating the illusion of looking straight at the man.

"Hikaru," Sai began softly. "It's supposed to be your home too."

It wasn't that Hikaru was surprised by the statement - it was more that he was shocked Sai would state the reason so openly. Embarrassed incredulity colored itself across the boy's face as he turned to stare at the nearest furniture set in search of a distraction.

"I don't think we need to get a whole bedset," Hikaru said, shuffling forward. Sai followed obligingly, eyes roaming over each set passed in interest. "I don't need much."

"This isn't about necessity," Sai stated. "Hikaru - which do you like best? It's your choice."

Hikaru would have frozen at the last word but his own reflexes dictated he continue walking. There was barely a twitch in his expression as he moved forward, but Sai noted something amiss; the boy's shoulders had tensed like a cornered animal and there was an intangible air of discontent that Sai could not find the reason for.

Hikaru stopped before a full-sized bed. The sheets were of a sheer material, looking almost metallic gray under the hanging light's illumination. The frame was of a darkly-varnished wood, the headboard carved into an elegant pattern that mimed the patterns of leaves falling from branches. It smelled new, looked untouched, and the pillows were arranged in a conspicuously decadent fashion.

_Clever,_ Hikaru mused. _You're so clever, aren't you?_

Hikaru picked up one of the pillows. It was square and fluffed to such a degree it was practically sturdy. The case was the color of a dead, dusty coal, patterned with shining silver thread that stretched up like the body of a tree. Shaped cloves of a softened plastic that shined back like fine pearls mimicked the place of leaves that lined every silver branch. It was beautiful, with both purpose and order.

Hikaru pelted it straight at Sai's face.

Sai's yelp of surprise was muffled by the pillow rebounding off of his mouth and nose. Some strands of his hair were momentarily caught and pulled forth from his neat ponytail. Reflexively brushing the loose strands out of the way, he was too late to stop Hikaru; the boy had already jumped atop the display bedset, rumpling the sheets and kicking off the pillows with his street shoes.

"Hikaru, what are you-?!"

"Whatever I damn well want," Hikaru sneered back - just before jumping atop the dresser. He strolled across it without care, jumping off it and taking off for the next bedset. Sai rushed after him but wasn't able to stop him in time. The boy had yanked the comforter off with a wide smile and a "I like the color of this one!" The mountain of pillows atop fell to the side, scattering off the burgundy carpeting and onto the tiled floor.

"But it doesn't really match my eyes, does it?" Hikaru noted, tossing the comforter over the mirror attached to the dresser. The screws squealed with the sound of poor craftsmanship, the mirror knocked off-kilter by the sudden force. The top brass knot at the mirror's corner pulled at the fabric and tore a small hole through it.

Hikaru pelted off towards the next set; an obnoxiously pink one complete with all the lace and frills of pompous little princesses. It was a canopy bed this time, but he hadn't gotten much farther than leaping atop it before slim hands attempted to get a hold of him. Hikaru twisted his body around, throwing himself to the side and further onto the bed - taking Sai with him. The man fell forward onto the duvet covers unceremoniously. The sudden shift in weight also threw Hikaru off balance and with one hand on the canopy, he tore it straight off as he went down under Sai's weight.

The canopy - the color a pink so light that it was reminiscent of newly-healed scars - fell across Sai's head and shoulders like the wedding veil of a bride. The older man was breathing rather heavily, unused to the sudden sprint across the showroom floor. Hikaru's eyes found his face, an unrepentant smirk spread across the child's lips that didn't quite match the sad quality in his green eyes.

Still bewildered, Sai sat up. "Are you okay?"

Hikaru's eyes widened, the smirk falling off his face to be replaced by a near-vulnerable expression only shades lighter than the first one Sai had seen.

"Hikaru? Are you hurt?" Sai pressed again, worried tone seeping into every word.

"...No," Hikaru negated wryly.

Sai released a small breath in relief. Then his eyes hardened, staring down at his charge with a disapproving look on his face. "What was all of that about, Hikaru? You've caused quite a bit of damage, you know-"

"I know," Hikaru cut off abruptly. His bemused expression began to morph into a rebellious one. "But it was my _choice_ to do it."

Sai's mouth snapped closed. He stared at Hikaru, hard - what was the boy trying to get at? The word choice itself hinted at something Hikaru had found personal offense with, and whatever had set off that destructive little display was something Sai needed to know. That Hikaru's antics could be set off so explosively and in such a short time...

"You," Sai tried tentatively. "You aren't comfortable with choosing things for yourself?"

"I'm not comfortable with the _illusion of choice!"_

Hikaru practically spit the words in his face, his expression a caricature of anger that twisted his mouth and narrowed his eyes. He withdrew immediately, pulling himself back against the headboard; the torn remnants of the canopy cast shadowed spots over his face and shoulders, the metallic clang of his belt clinking against the aged, golden metal of the headboard grating loudly in the silence.

Sai's hands fisted the covers, "I don't understand. Hikaru, this isn't a trick."

Why was Hikaru breathing so hard? "Of course it is. Just because the things you're asking me to choose are different from the usual doesn't make you any different from the others. You can't _buy_ me into getting better."

Surprise, anger, and righteous indignation - it was amazing to Hikaru how easily Sai could be read sometimes. "Hikaru-"

"It doesn't matter what I want because in the end, you're only getting it because it's something that _you_ want for _me!"_ Hikaru snapped back accusingly.

Always. Hikaru had never wanted any of it. He didn't want the clothes - he'd only gotten them because that's what the client liked to see him in. Whenever he pulled on an outfit, it was never for his own enjoyment; it was donning a costume to better hide the ugly thing underneath. The food - no matter how fancy or mundane - always tasted like ash in his mouth under their eyes. The gameboy that he'd gotten felt more like an accessory he wore to meet the criteria of what it meant to be a normal child. It didn't matter what he owned because there wasn't one part of it that he'd ever gotten just because he wanted it. Hikaru didn't have the time or energy to meet his wants - just his needs.

"Then we'll get nothing," Sai murmured.

Hikaru laughed - a choked, self-deprecating thing. "Oh, are you punishing me now?"

Sai gave a small sigh in response. He suddenly looked a thousand times more tired, although his breath was no longer labored. "Hikaru, if you don't want a new bedset - then we don't need to get one. I just thought you'd be more comfortable on an actual bed than on the sofa."

"So now it's about my _comfort?_ How heart-warming," Hikaru scoffed.

Irritation rose and faded sharply within Sai. "I just wanted you to feel at ease-"

"Yeah, thanks for that," Hikaru cut off testily. "Most of them always did try to make me feel comfortable first, so I guess you get points for trying-"

_"I'm nothing like them!"_

It was hard to tell who was more surprised by Sai's outburst - Hikaru or Sai. But the former was definitely made more irate about it, if the vicious sneer resulting was any indication.

"Believe me - you are very similar," Hikaru bit out.

Which _hurt,_ more than Sai could articulately describe. To be made equal to the monsters that had twisted Hikaru into what he was now - the very idea was not only infuriating, but nauseating. Sai stiffened up abruptly, turning around to have his back to Hikaru and putting his legs back over the side of the bed so his feet once again met the floor. He whipped the fallen canopy off of him, letting it tumble from his fingers and fall to the floor without care.

"I would never do what they did to you," Sai stated softly. His voice and tone were tightly-controlled, the fixed reign on his emotions betrayed only by the fingers he had shakingly choking the life out from the sheets.

"Of course not," Hikaru retorted. "You can't even bring yourself to fucking _hug_ me."

Sai froze, head whipping around to pin the boy with wide eyes. "Wha- Is that what this is about?"

"I was under the impression this was about a lot of things," Hikaru snipped.

Sai was not to be deterred, "Hikaru..."

"I just want to know why," Hikaru said quietly. He had curled more into himself at this point, his words nearly muffled by his own arms as he pushed himself further away from Sai and into the headboard. "You're so eager to comfort me but you're too fucking scared to touch me."

Sai was quiet for a long moment. He turned to look back out over the room, dark eyes roving over the path of destruction Hikaru had left behind him as he tore through the showroom. It was a testament to how powerful his name was that even at the sounds of destruction, Hirano and his employees had not returned. Sai waited quietly as Hikaru's breathing began to resume its more steady rhythm. There was no need for Hikaru to be scared - not of Sai. Never of Sai.

"Because I am scared," Sai admitted.

No noise behind him, but Hikaru had steeled like leaden weight upon the bed. Sai couldn't bring himself to face the boy. He knew he must say this, explain himself and his actions but he wasn't sure he could be so truthful if he had to watch the emotions his words would bring about on Hikaru's face. It was much easier to tell a white lie for comfort than admit the unstable truth of his every move. If he didn't have to look into those green eyes and see the damage clear as day, then he could answer as honestly as Hikaru wanted him to.

"I don't even know what I'm doing, if it will help you in any way," Sai continued on. "I can't bring myself to touch you because I want you to see me as differently from those- others. I don't want you to be afraid of my touch, I want you to trust me enough to not doubt it - but I don't know how to go about doing it. I thought the distance would help you better understand me."

Sai leaned forward, cupping his eyes as he propped his elbows atop his thighs. The loose strands of his hair slid forwards over his shoulders to dangle freely. "But it seems like half the time I'm just floundering about and I don't think I've helped you very much at all. I don't want to hurt you, I want you to trust me - but I'm so terrified of the possibility of _losing you_ that it's paralyzing."

He hadn't got any further before hands pulled Sai down at the shoulders, forcing him onto his back to stare up in muted surprise at the boy hovering above him. Hikaru was glaring down at him but it was a look curiously devoid of anger.

"So you put up an _act?"_ Hikaru demanded. "How can I ever feel relaxed around you when you're calculating every move you make around me? _When you're not even yourself?"_

Hikaru picked up another pillow to bat futilely against a wide-eyed Sai. "You _idiot!_ You're such an _idiot!"_ the boy cried over and over again. "You're not my doctor, Sai - so don't act like one!"

Would family act so restrained around each other? Hikaru didn't know enough about what it meant to be a family but he was sure that it was more natural than that. Even those in the Gate did not bother with their acts amongst each other. If Sai wanted to be trusted to such a degree that he was willing to take Hikaru under his wing, then to Hikaru - it didn't make sense to enact such tight restraint. To be honest, to be true to yourself - how could you expect it of someone else when you yourself aren't willing to do the same?

"I'm sorry," Sai said. It started out as a whisper, almost just the movement of his lips. But he repeated it again - louder and steadier. He sat up, turning and reaching out to grab hold of one of Hikaru's hands. He pulled the pillow from its grasp, holding it between his own and eyes looking into Hikaru's face. "I'm sorry, Hikaru. I won't - I will try not to act so foolishly anymore. Please - I'm sorry."

Hikaru almost sighed as tears predictably began to run down the man's face. In some sense, the sight of those tears was- reassuring. Proof that Sai had truly understood what Hikaru had said to him and meant the vow he swore.

It seemed that they both had things to learn about what it meant to be a family.

 

_

 

Hirano had been shocked - an understatement - at the state of his showroom when the pair had finally exited. Sai had decided to pay for completely new sets to make up for the ones that had been trashed, against Hirano's hollow-ringing denials. Hikaru had felt quite ashamed of himself after the fact, unwilling to look anyone in the eye while in Geographica.

Just to make up for the time lost and property damaged, Sai also relented into buying a rather simple furniture set: a black, steel-framed set arranged in a mimicry of a bunk bed. The bottom was that of a desk, a small, two-layered bookshelf to the left and enough empty space to the right for both a computer and small printer. An overarching shelf above it was narrow enough to be meant only for decoration. The top was a simple futon bed; big enough for a single person. The ladder was built into both sides of the bedset.

Sai had paid to have it delivered and assembled for tomorrow afternoon. He'd opted to forego the entertainment center for now, or just pick it out himself at a later date; he knew Hikaru would appreciate a TV but didn't really want to give his own input on it either way. He lead Hikaru down one block to the linen store to pick up some sheets for the new bed. They'd managed to compromise on three different sets, although that had been rather long and tedious given their mutual reluctance to give their own opinion on anything.

Only once they'd gotten on the train to take them to Akihabara did Sai's spirits really pick up in a noticeable fashion. "Let's get a snack before we go shopping!"

"Why are you so excited to eat?" Hikaru asked blandly.

Akihabara was bustling on a Sunday afternoon. Sai wasn't paying much notice to the crowds as he made his way through them, even though some appreciative persons gawked a little when they caught sight of the pretty man up close. Hikaru was paying more attention to the fashion of those they passed, intrigued by some designs he hadn't seen before if he wasn't otherwise criticizing it.

They stopped at a small shop for a snack. Boba milk teas in hand, they window shopped for a good long hour; Sai seemed especially enthused at all of the specialty shops that lined the backstreets. Hikaru had had to pull him away from some that showcased dubious material - the girls inside of one tittered loudly at Sai's attempt at entering - but eventually they'd found their way to Ishimaru Denki - the brand name electronics store.

Hikaru hung by the cellphone accessories aisle, perusing them inquisitively; he'd never cared enough to accessorize his phone, but some of the charms looked rather interesting. His attention was arrested by the odd assortment of small animals drowning in jars of brightly-colored liquid, and what looked to be a mini-goban at the end of one strap.

With Hikaru otherwise entertained, Sai headed in the direction of the television aisle. He didn't really know the first thing about them, but it certainly wasn't long before an attendant had seemingly appeared out of nowhere to help him. He knew enough about the dimensions of his apartment that he didn't need a uselessly huge one, so he settled for one of the medium-sized ones that came with its own stand. Another 15 minutes were spent filling out the necessary paperwork and paying for both the television and its delivery. Hikaru had moved on from cellphone accessories - with none in hand, Sai noted - towards the CD aisle. Sai was just about to join him - it looked as if Hikaru was perusing with focused intent - but got distracted by the row of desktops just next to the CD aisle.

That's when Sai felt the stab of a genius plan.

It didn't take long to get the attention of another store employee, this one specializing in computers. Sai didn't need the computer to do much - just get a connection to the internet. The young man was plenty helpful, pointing out the pros and cons of each brand. Sai decided he didn't need a desktop right away, preferring the ease of the laptop instead.

He settled on the latest Toshiba brand laptop. It was about 190 thousand yen without tax, but it was sleek enough that he could carry it home without much trouble. Hikaru returned to his side while Sai was purchasing it, his own items in hand. He refused Sai's offer to buy the things for him, paying for them himself.

Sai had only glimpsed over the cover of the CDs. One was classical music but the foreign words were unintelligible to Sai, regardless of the sticker in Japanese that translated it. The second was Enka singer Fuji Keiko's _"Woman in Shinjuku",_ while the last looked to be of the jazz genre. Interesting choices that Sai thought didn't really fit Hikaru - but then again, maybe this Hikaru had a different taste in music.

"I think we kind of went on a shopping spree today," Hikaru pointed out, giving the shopping bag Sai carried a curious look.

"All for a good cause," Sai cheered happily. "I'd say let's find a restaurant to eat at but I'm a bit exhausted. Let's just get something for take-out and eat it at home - is that okay?"

Hikaru shrugged in easy acceptance, "As long as you're not cooking!"

"Hikaru-!"

 

_

 

Hikaru felt both emotionally and physically drained by the time they made it back to Sai's apartment. This wasn't like the other shopping trips he partook in, which he was made painfully aware of every time he looked over at the bags of bedsheets Sai left near the entrance of the hallway. Reminded of the episode he threw in Geographica, Hikaru felt heat creep up into his cheeks.

He couldn't believe he could act so...childishly. He'd been aware of Sai's careful movements since the first time they'd met and while it had slowly begun to grate on him, he didn't realize it had affected him to such an extent that he'd throw a fit over it.

The stress of his shift in perspective, combined with his ties to the Gate and Sai's too-easy acceptance of the responsibility of Hikaru in his life, had moved Hikaru into a fragile emotional state. Any great change in anyone's life was stressful - but on the shoulders of a child who didn't easily trust others, it was suffocating.

Hikaru had never dared dream of rescue. He had cast off his naïveté the moment it was taken in that motel room. Now to have Sai willingly buy him anything and everything in an effort to make his life easier - not only was it astounding, it was frightening. It was too good to be true and Hikaru had learned early on not to trust the hands held out to him for aide. On a conscious level, Hikaru knew Sai was different from the others - or at least Hikaru wished him to be. On a subconscious level, it was a whole different story; one that Hikaru wasn't ready to delve into yet.

Sai had picked up some pre-cooked traditional fare from the small restaurant about three blocks away. The fish was too dry and the miso soup a bit watery, but Hikaru knew that it would still taste way better in comparison to Sai's home cooking.

One bottle of Pocari Sweat in hand, Hikaru made himself comfortable on the sofa as Sai sat down next to him, pulling out his purchase from Ishimaru Denki. Hikaru leaned forward in interest - he'd never seen a laptop before. All of the internet cafes (which he only ever passed by) had desktops, as did the computer system in the Gate. He mentally tried to tally up the prices of everything Sai had purchased today - a staggering amount. Geographica alone was already well into the hundreds of thousands of yen, then combined with everything else...

_Just how much do professional Go players make?_ Hikaru wondered. Maybe he'd look it up later.

Sai was terrible at set up. He couldn't even manage to get the laptop booted up by himself. Eventually Hkaru took pity and started to help; he may not be a genius technician but for the most part it was pretty much common sense. How the man could have missed the cue to even plug the thing in was beyond Hikaru.

Between the two of them, it took just a little under an hour to get the laptop up and running proficiently. Hikaru took over checking over the display and running through the set-up programs, as Sai's befuddled exasperation could only be amusing for so long. Just as he pronounced the laptop to be in working order, Sai was back at his side with a steaming cup of tea in hand.

"There's actually something I want you to check out," Sai confided, looking far too eager. "Can you open up the internet browser and search for NetGo?"

Hikaru did as instructed, already knowing what he'd find - and sure enough, it was an online Go playing site. How Sai even knew it existed to begin with given his lack of deftness with a computer was a mystery, but then again, Sai's entire existence was a mystery. Hikaru was sure he'd hurt something in his head trying to figure the man out.

"Why don't you make an account!" Sai suggested brightly.

_Of course,_ Hikaru inwardly mused. _Well, at least I can play games with someone other than Sai and Shanhai..._

The registration was free but Hikaru had to use Sai's email address as his back-up verification. He stared at the Username box for several minutes, trying to come up with anything other than ' **Itsuka** '. He almost entered the English ' **Fifth_Day** ' but he was consciously trying to distance his life as Itsuka from Go now and found anything relating to it unsuitable.

Sai hadn't said anything in the meanwhile, seemingly enjoying his cup of tea as he waited for Hikaru to finish registering. The boy finally settled on ' **wisteria** ' and was glad to found it not taken. Sai had choked a bit on his cup of tea, although whether that was from the effeminate username or the fact that it was taken from the kanji that made up 'Fujiwara', Hikaru wasn't sure.

"I think you're around a 10-kyu level at this point, but you have to earn your way up it seems," Sai said as Hikaru ran through the site tutorial. "Find someone between 10 and 7-kyu - they should be a good match for you-"

For the second time within the hour, Sai choked on his next breath. Hikaru gave him an exasperated look - Sai felt slightly indignant about the boy's patronizing glances - but his eyes went back to the screen to see what had thrown the other man off.

"S-Seiji!" Sai stuttered out, staring at the username on the website labelled as active. True, while in the coma-verse Ogata had been a patron of NetGo - that didn't mean it necessarily held true for the reality. Frankly, Sai had never thought to ask, as he'd never used such sites before. But to see the username ' **seiji** ' plain as day before him...

"Oh, is that Seiji-san's account?" Hikaru asked casually. "So there are even some pros on here? That doesn't seem very fair..."

"I'm not sure it's him," Sai corrected. "I-It just surprised me..."

Hikaru rose an eyebrow at him. "Why does seeing his name shock you so much...?"

Sai certainly wasn't going to explain anything about the coma-verse to Hikaru at this point. Not only would the boy not believe a word of it, Sai was sure he would take Sai's investment in his health as an insult if he heard it had come about because of a dream he had.

"Well whatever, I guess I'll just ask him if it's him," Hikaru waved off, pulling out his cellphone.

Sai openly gaped at him, "Wh-What?"

Hikaru was already jotting down and sending a message. With a melodious ring, the message proclaimed itself sent.

"Why do you have his phone number?" Sai demanded. What exactly had Ogata and Hikaru been talking about in those few moments Sai had left them alone together?!

Hikaru deigned to glance over at the Meijin with a wicked grin. "Seiji-san and I exchanged numbers while you were washing the dishes. He offered to play a Go game with me whenever I wanted."

That was certainly unlike Ogata. Needlessly involving himself with a kid that wasn't Akira was uncharacteristic for the aloof man that Sai was instantly suspicious. But what could Ogata want from Hikaru...?

_Perhaps he finds my investment in Hikaru interesting and worth keeping in notice?_ Sai mused to himself.

Hikaru's phone chirped out a robotic tune. "It's him," Hikaru said aloud, flipping his phone closed and turning his attention back to the laptop. He sent a short message to NetGo user **seiji** telling him it was Hikaru and asking for a match. Under a minute later, a game request was sent back, which Hikaru readily accepted.

Sai took this as his cue to step back. He intended to mentor Hikaru in Go and foster him in life - but Hikaru could only grow through that which he experienced. In Go, he would need to play these games under his own power. Sai had seen the budding interest in his student's eyes, had gleaned the power that was growing silently with every game Hikaru played - and now it was time for Hikaru to enter that world on his own two feet like every player before him.

 

_

 

Hikaru had been given black. He started out tentatively in the corners, hoping to secure territory there as his starting moves. He knew Ogata was strong - he was a pro, of course, which made this game shidougo. That didn't mean Hikaru would take it any less seriously, especially as this was the first pro besides Sai he would be playing against. Ogata was assuredly brilliant, but in a different way than Sai - which made this match so very interesting.

Once they had secured their distinctive corners, Hikaru did not wait for Ogata to make the first move; he started with the san-ren-sei opening, wanting to increase his influence before his opponent decided further enclosing his own corners wasn't his plan anymore.

Hikaru approached Ogata's corner position at the star point. He kept in mind his game against Shanhai; while Ogata knew himself to be superior, he would be too experienced to let himself be blinded by it. They didn't start off at even ground, which meant Hikaru would have to be trickier - Ogata could easily suspect something given his experience playing against Sai (which Hikaru assumed they did).

Ogata answered with a pincering play. Hikaru only played a few hands more against him but decided to let the battle for the corner go, given that Ogata had already destroyed his shape by cutting it to shreds. (Sai made a mental note to work more with Hikaru on joseki. The butchery that had occurred in that corner could have been avoided.) Hikaru returned to his first group, defending against his opponent's attempt at a counter-attack. While he retained one eye, he lost another shortly after and could do nothing for the now-dead cluster.

Upon the right side of the board, Hikaru placed an inconsequential stone; Ogata didn't bother attacking that one stone, leaving it as he went for the weakened corner Hikaru had first built up.

He was losing liberties but Hikaru was not discouraged. He kept a watchful eye on play of the stones. In this game of shidougo, even though Ogata clearly had the advantage on the board - he wouldn't cut Hikaru down so quickly. Hikaru was counting on this. The flow of the game was what Hikaru was using, playing in a capturing race here and there to manipulate the shape of the board. This control, this ability to build - Hikaru thrived off of it.

Hikaru secured his remaining corner cluster, as well as the first chain and the cluster near the tengen point. Sai avidly watched as the endgame phase began and the board priorities were brought to clarity, Hikaru's initial framework coming to fruition. There were plenty of holes and places for improvement, of course - Sai had watched with a tolerant look at some of the most obvious mistakes that Hikaru made as the game progressed - but here Sai could see what had made Hikaru brilliant.

That initial meaningless stone had transformed into a sharp cut through Ogata's influence on that side of the board, minimizing white's sphere of influence and allowing the first step towards an invasion for Hikaru. Sai didn't bother to reign in his smile; Ogata had paused long enough to take in the play that Sai knew Ogata was trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

It didn't take long. Ogata advanced forward, killing off another cluster. Hikaru had made a brilliant move but Ogata wasn't a pro for nothing. Only after Ogata had killed off one of Hikaru's larger clusters did the boy admit defeat, eyes attached to the screen with utmost concentration.

As the site announced **wisteria** had surrendered, **seiji** immediately sent a message asking to discuss the game. Hikaru acquiesced without pause, which began a short slew of lengthy messages dissecting every move.

_Seiji always has been thorough,_ Sai thought, watching in increased anxiety as Hikaru was run through every play that Ogata found fault with - so pretty much all of them. Hikaru's phone buzzed, tearing the boy's attention away as he finished reading the latest message. Before Sai could ask who it was, Hikaru had flipped it open with a harried "Seiji-san?"

Apparently some lessons could not be confined to text.

Sai absently listened as Hikaru explained and argued over his moves, cleaning up the dishes he'd left about and otherwise tidying up. Hikaru began to grow more exuberant and agitated with his gestures, pointing out moves on the screen to an invisible audience. Sai could tell when they'd gotten to the part about the tide-shifting move, as Hikaru actually looked away from the screen with a look that was almost embarrassingly pleased. Whatever Ogata said next promptly crushed that cute expression, however, and once again the boy was gesturing wildly.

When Hikaru had entered the third round of what seemed to be a fairly standard "Well maybe if you weren't so loose with your tengen cluster as you are with your taste in bed partners, you wouldn't have had your shape cut!" - Hikaru was getting disturbingly creative with his insults now - Sai cut the conversation short by swiping the boy's phone and calmly telling Ogata that it was about time they all got ready for bed.

Hikaru grabbed the phone back quickly enough, calling out a mock-sympathetic "Yeah, I suppose you need to sleep off that hangover!" before ending the call.

Sai shut off the laptop and set it to the side. Hikaru had already shoved the phone back into his pockets and was now looking at him expectantly.

"Did you want to discuss the game again with me?" Sai asked. He didn't think it was necessary - despite the gruff exterior, Ogata was a good teacher - thus he wasn't surprised when Hikaru shook his head in the negative.

"That was pretty fun. I learned a lot, too," Hikaru admitted. He supposed NetGo would be a fun way to pass the time while trapped in Sai's apartment. "Seiji-san could work on his post-game discussion manners, though."

"You both could," Sai muttered inaudibly.

They spent the next hour rearranging furniture and otherwise just moving things out of the way for the new additions they would gain tomorrow. Hikaru would be at school (hopefully), but Sai didn't have any matches or tournaments planned for tomorrow and would be free to receive them.

He would probably have Ogata over to help, just in case he needed the extra hands. Hopefully they'd be able to talk things over as well; they hadn't been able to since that first night, as Sai had been preoccupied with work or Hikaru. He hadn't wanted to talk in a public place over such sensitive information but he also preferred to keep Hikaru out of the loop. There was no need to make the boy more self-conscious around Ogata than he already was.

As Hikaru took a shower first, Sai pulled out his phone - one new message. Unsurprisingly, it was from Ogata.

_From: Ogata Seiji_

_He's not bad._

Sai stared at the message. Translated into everyday tongue, it just meant Hikaru wasn't a total waste of Go-playing air. He felt offended on his student's behalf, but then again - Ogata didn't know Hikaru's rate of progression.

_From: Fujiwara Sai_

_He only started learning three months ago. He couldn't even read the lines of the board back then. You're the third person he's ever played._

Sai didn't have to wait long. He hadn't moved more than a few steps towards his bedroom when his phone began to ring. He answered it with only a cursory look at the Caller ID, Ogata's name clear and bright on the small screen.

"Seiji."

_"Where the hell did you find this kid?"_

Sai smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Note 1)_ **On Hikaru** :
> 
> - _Go:_ I ask for some patience. Hikaru is being pulled into it with all the delicacy of a black hole, really - but it will still take some time. His Go and his interest in it will grow exponentially as the story progresses but it won't be with the same single-minded determination displayed in canon. Canon!Hikaru had the means and the good health to support his obsession - _this_ Hikaru doesn't. Thus his journey with Go is going to be far more bumpy, especially in the beginning.
> 
> - _Well-being_ : Let me make this clear - in a sense, Hikaru _isn't very mentally stable._ He has a lot of issues; neglect and abuse do terrible things to a person's psyche. Only in fanfiction do characters develop the 'quiet victim' persona as a result of abuse - they become withdrawn and shy of human contact. This is not true for most victims who survive childhood sexual abuse. The person who acts up in class, the kid who says or asks for inappropriate things, who generally acts like a total brat - _that_ can be a result of such trauma. It's easy to sympathize with a victim if they act weak and withdrawn, but if victims were so easily identifiable there wouldn't be so damn many of us.
> 
> Hikaru, as I noted before, is abused and neglected on a daily basis. Someone suffering from that doesn't just automatically fix themselves when they're extracted from such an environment. Right now, Hikaru is transitioning: finding a new path with Sai but still has lingering ties to his life as Itsuka. It's a highly-stressful and volatile time for him, which makes him a virtual landmine - anything that reminds him of Itsuka while he's with Sai could set him off.
> 
> Trust is a key element to the development of a relationship between them, but as seen in this chapter - it can't be one-sided. Sai had asked Hikaru 'to be Hikaru' - but he wasn't able to be genuine himself around the boy either. 'Walking on eggshells' can be just as detrimental to a developing relationship as obnoxious physical breaching.
> 
> _Note 2)_ **Pairings** : There's a lot of concern over this one, huh~ XD
> 
> - _OgataSai_ : I'm asking for a little faith, guys. I wasn't just going to crash them together to have sexy fun times, you know! Every relationship in this story will be developed slowly. This is a 20+ chapter story - and you won't get any concrete pairings until we're past the 20th chapter mark. Just because Ogata is gung-ho for a relationship doesn't mean Sai will be any time soon; he's obviously too busy with Hikaru that it hasn't even come to his attention.
> 
> - _AkiHika_ : I'm still maintaining the 'elements-of', but that's only because I think for this pairing to become absolutely concrete - it would extend further than the story. XD I'm fairly confident you'll see the beginnings/foundation of it but I don't think it will actually reach the 'we're a couple' stage in any adequate way. Just as said before, however, Akira and Hikaru will have a _very strong_ relationship.
> 
> - _SaiHika_ : PLATONIC ONLY. There are legitimate reasons for this: Hikaru needs to be shown that there's an adult figure he can rely on and Sai is currently setting himself up as this figure. If Sai were to engage Hikaru in a romantic relationship, based off of how things in this story have progressed so far - it would be the _ultimate betrayal_. Never mind the fact that Sai wouldn't be able to see Hikaru in that light because he's seen exactly how those relationships worked out for the boy before. There will be no healing cock in this story. NONE. NEVER. I have so many issues with that particular trope, you have no idea.
> 
> But you know, in the first story outline (I'm working off of the third one, in case anyone cares), this was intended to be a SaiHika romance. Mainly because the first draft story was _viciously dark_. Like, nothing was going to be positive in that one - it was supposed to be bleak as hell. I figured it would either break me or the readers first before I finished it, so I lightened it up through every revision - and now we have _this_ story.
> 
> _Note 3)_ **Rankings** : As far as I know, only 'Vanilla' holds true to reality. I created the others based on it. You can rest easy now.
> 
> _Note 4)_ **OCs** : Thanks for your input on them. :) I like to hear about how the readers receive them, because to me, the OCs play a very specific role...
> 
> As always, thank you for dropping reviews! I love hearing from you guys and they're a great motivation for me. :)
> 
>  
> 
> _Questions, comments, concrit? Then please..._
> 
>  
> 
> **Kindly drop a review.**


	6. Stitching the Distance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Special Thanks** : Elaur, who looks over my game depictions to make sure they make at least a little sense. You have all of my appreciation!
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.
> 
> **Pairings** : Ditto the last chapter.
> 
> **Warnings** : Same as usual. You should all know by now...

## 

**Chapter Six**

### 

_Stitching the Distance_

-

Some part of Hikaru couldn't believe he was actually doing this. It was a dark, cynical part; the twisted part of his conscience borne from the creation of 'Itsuka' that sneered at the rest of the world with dispassionate contempt. This was the part of Hikaru that had given up on the rest of the world - a part that was slowly diminishing with each passing day spent in Sai's company.

Diminishing - but not completely gone.

Tracking down the Go club had been simple; the posters pinned up around school labelled the classroom in which the club gathered. Some of his classmates, on their way back from clean-up duty or going to their own clubs, would give him an inquisitive look as he stared at the door to one of the science labs.

He bit down the feeling of displacement. It wasn't as if he wanted to be included in the club - it was just _curiosity_. Hikaru wanted to learn and better himself at Go, and the Go club was an easily-accessible place to do so. He wasn't keen on entering tournaments and the like, especially since he was such a beginner. He just wanted the experience.

Hikaru opened the door.

It was...smaller than he had expected. The room had a nice atmosphere to it; the windows were left open to draw in fresh air and the tables had a sterile clean to their shine. A few of the desks were littered with an assortment of Go magazines and half-finished kifu, while one long desk had three gobans lined up.

Hikaru had been on clean-up duty earlier and knew he was considered late. This allowed him to gauge the total membership: four boys and three girls. Not very impressive, but then again, Haze wasn't a particularly impressive school.

"H-Hello!" One of the girls greeted, smile bright. She was the pretty one with pigtails; something about her face tugged at familiarity. He'd probably seen her around school somewhere.

"You!" The club president stood abruptly, chair screeching backwards at his sudden movement. "You're that delinquent!"

Hikaru grimaced, "I already said that it wasn't me. Just how long are you going to try and hold that against me?"

The older boy promptly started to look abashed, "Oh, no, we actually caught the one who was defiling the posters already. Er - sorry about that."

_So he just already decided to label me a delinquent?_ Hikaru realized derisively.

"Ah, is he the one Tsutsui-kun was talking about? The juvenile delinquent with scary eyes who figured out the Touya Akira-level tsumego?" One of the boys asked brightly.

"That level of description wasn't necessary," the girl nearest an embarrassed Tsutsui snapped.

_What's a Touya Akira-level?_ Hikaru was having his own issues.

"Could it be you're here to join?" Pigtails asked excitedly. Her enthusiasm was spreading to the other club members, although the club president looked wary. Hikaru didn't know if he should be pleased by that or irritated.

Hikaru shrugged half-heartedly, "I just wanted to check it out. I started playing recently and I've gotten tired of just solving tsumego."

"So you usually just solve tsumego?" another boy laughed. Something about his demeanor changed, looking almost relieved. "No wonder you could solve the problem on the poster! Tsutsui-senpai got it from one of the more popular tsumego books."

Well, that was insulting. _What a pit of vipers,_ Hikaru sneered inwardly. He couldn't help but notice that a majority of the club members seemed to believe they had figured him out, with the exception of Tsutsui - who continued to look perplexed - and the girl with pigtails.

"It's fine if you just want to check it out. We were just talking about some of the new go pros," the girl admitted. "I'm Fujisaki Akari, by the way."

"Shindou Hikaru," he replied in kind.

Fujisaki blinked large eyes at him, an expression of momentary recollection gracing her features before she seemingly shook them away. Knowing the way his reputation had evolved since school started, it was probably some rumor or another about his bad behavior. God knows he'd been forced to listen to his homeroom teacher lecture him enough about it.

"I'm Tsutsui Kimihiro," the club president piped up, fingers curled around the spine of a Go book about joseki. The other members piped up with their own introductions before turning back to their previous discussion, content that Tsutsui and Fujisaki could handle the new boy.

It was an interesting, if rather sad, dynamic: Tsutsui may be the president but he had no power or sway over the others. It was obvious in their interactions - the easy way they dismissed the older boy seemed to be commonplace. Fujisaki herself seemed to hold more power, but that may be just because of her looks; the boys tended to look towards her while the other girls hardly bothered. It was still too early to tell who was leading this little group but Hikaru was putting his money on the boy who had openly dismissed him or the girl that was sneering loudly over one of the Go magazines.

"So how long have you been playing Go, Shindou-kun?" Fujisaki asked him. She had a gentle voice matched with a sweet face. She'd managed to catch that look that would have had customers salivating after her: the innocent and pure schoolgirl, easy with kind smiles and soft hands.

Imagining her getting torn apart at the Gate made looking at her a little more bearable. "I just started learning about three months ago from a...friend. I've only really ever played games against him, but even those are shidougo," Hikaru answered.

"Uwah, a beginner!" one of the girls crowed, leaning over, flattening the palm of her hand against the desk. There was grit from whatever she had been doing earlier underneath her untrimmed nails. She was a third year, with narrow black eyes and a wide face; her small nose seemed unsuited to the otherwise flat features. Hikaru couldn't be bothered to remember her name (even though she'd just said it less than a minute ago). "Want to play a game with me, Shindou-kun?"

"Don't bully the kid, Asakano~!" her friend giggled. She was thicker than Fujisaki but not overweight, and there were callouses on her knuckles. Her cheeks were puffy, unsuited to what should have been a narrow face. _Probably an eating disorder,_ Hikaru filed away casually. He'd seen it enough at work to recognize the signs.

Tsutsui laid a surprisingly firm hand on his shoulder. "Shindou-kun, why don't we play a game? I'd like to see what level you're at. Then we can see where to go from there," he suggested.

"Sure," Hikaru agreed easily enough.

Tsutsui lead him over to the goban furthest from the group, although it hardly mattered given the other club members' inattention. Hikaru couldn't quite understand it; as a Go club, shouldn't they be more involved? Whether it be playing games themselves or reviewing ones by pros, it didn't make sense for them to instead be focused more on what seemed to be the gossip of the Go Pro life.

_Or maybe Go is just like everything else,_ Hikaru allowed sardonically. _Money and fame but little draw of talent._

Sai was probably just a freak occurrence and drew in like-minded weirdos such as Ogata. If the Go world really was filled with such quirky characters then Hikaru would seriously worry over the future of any Go players.

"Do you want to put some stones down?" Tsutsui asked kindly. Hikaru gave him points for not making it sound condescending; he doubted any of the other members could have done it with the same tone.

"No, it's fine," Hikaru deferred. It wasn't overconfidence - just ignorance. He couldn't really judge his own strength, given his new entry into NetGo and lack of experience playing those near his level. (He seriously doubted Tsutsui would be anywhere near the level of the two professionals.) Just by an age-basis, Hikaru hoped he'd be somewhere around Shanhai's level. Given the advantage Tsutsui would have in comparison to Shanhai - having both the time and means to further improve - Hikaru hoped he could accurately ascertain his own strength after this match.

They nigiri'd - momentarily throwing Hikaru off, as Tsutsui was the first person to ever do so. Tsutsui took it in stride but one of the girls from earlier tittered at Hikaru's pause and perplexed expression. Fujisaki tactfully drew her back into a conversation about some Meijin and their lovelife so Hikaru didn't bother to waste a glare on her.

As they were playing an even game, such a practice was standard, Tsutsui explained. The older boy merely grabbed a handful of white stones and Hikaru set down one black stone on the go board in a call for 'odd'. Tsutsui set his handful down and paired them off - 'even'.

Tsutsui took black, laying down his first stone at a komoku on the upper right corner. Hikaru played his first move on the star point of the lower left corner in the hopes of creating a Chinese fuseki, should the opportunity present itself.

"So where did you learn to play Go?" one of the boys asked, sidling up to the pair.

Hikaru wondered if it was normal to have conversations during games. From the way Tsutsui's lips twisted down into a discontent frown, Hikaru guessed it wasn't something that should be encouraged. The blond-banged boy continued with his fuseki, hoping the setup of his framework would not be disturbed by a snippet of conversation.

"From a friend," Hikaru answered shortly. Hopefully the tone would clue the other boy in.

"Is your friend in another school's Go club or something?" the boy continued, sounding equal parts curious and suspicious.

Tsutsui's third move had entered the side of the board Hikaru was setting up, approaching Hikaru's komoku. Hikaru paused, thought about it, then played a joseki in order to gain sente. Tsutsui evaluated the board a moment before placing his stone down in an attachment to the komoku.

"My friend isn't in school anymore," Hikaru said.

_Come to think of it, how old is Sai?_ Hikaru didn't know much about his...mentor. Aside from a vaguely-described career and some personality quirks, Hikaru had little to go on about Sai. He didn't even know if the man was straight! (If he was, Hikaru foresaw a looming future of alcoholism for Ogata.) Things such as family or history hadn't mattered in terms of clients before, so it had never occurred to Hikaru to ask. Some part of him wondered if he should even bother.

Tsutsui connected.

"So a dropout?" the other member persisted.

Hikaru connected. "No," he replied absently.

Tsutsui connected again. Apparently the battles for the corners had started. Given Ogata had grilled him over his botched joseki from the night before, Hikaru had been treated to a (rather colorfully-worded) lecture over proper joseki forms.

A few moves in, Tsutsui had put one of Hikaru's stones in atari. The younger boy frowned.

"Then how did you meet?" the boy continued.

(2, 11).

(2, 10).

Hikaru was just going to dull the sound of the boy's voice into vaguely-irritating background chatter. There were five other people in the room to bother so couldn't he take his nosiness elsewhere?

"And why would he even bother to teach you?" the boy mused, although this seemed to be to himself. It was the only way Hikaru could accept such casual rudeness. He ground his teeth together to avoid making a cutting remark, slamming down a stone in answer to one of Tsutsui's moves.

Tsutsui didn't seem particularly perturbed, instead resting a hand on his worn joseki book. "Fukagawa, we're trying to play right now," the Go club's captain intoned calmly.

Fukagawa shrugged, "I don't think it matters much."

"Tsutsui-senpai is just trying to tell you, in a polite way, to fuck off," Hikaru said without looking up from the board.

(14, 15.)

Tsutsui frowned. That last move was trying to lean on his stronger group.

"What!" Fukagawa squawked, which went ignored.

A few more hands. Hikaru secured his stones with a play at (3,8). Tsutsui had jumped to another corner, clearly working to secure for himself all of the corners. Hikaru aimed for the center, starting at (10, 12). Tsutsui answered and the chain continued for only a couple more hands before Hikaru placed a stone at (11, 8) to better attack Tsutsui's group.

A few more hands played. Hikaru's face was a mask of polite indifference, not even the slightest hint of an expression marring his features as he gained sente, shifting the game into Hikaru's favor. Tsutsui's pause was longer as he examined the board even as Hikaru's mind worked to secure himself greater territory in later moves.

"This guy is rude!" Fukagawa announced to the other members.

Tsutsui placed a stone. _Fukagawa is so annoying._

Hikaru answered, reaffirming his position. "And you're irritating," he replied coolly to the other Go club member, eyes never lifting from the board.

Fukagawa stormed back over to the others, who were now shooting Hikaru critical glances.

Tsutsui eyed Hikaru's last move; it wasn't a particularly strong one. So far, Tsutsui had been able to deduce the boy had a good grasp of fuseki but his ability with joseki vaulted from decent to shaky. Even though the first year had managed to secure greater influence over the board, some of his moves were rather questionable.

_Not quite a beginner,_ Tsutsui allowed. But still better than the others. He must have been lying about how long he's been playing.

Shindou seemed to get by through obfuscation. Tsutsui couldn't quite tell why the boy felt the need to, as he'd pegged the delinquent as the sort to boast about his strength, given such a gaudy hairstyle. Apparently Shindou would rather stump people than impress them.

They exchanged hands for another ten minutes. It was a strange budding type of pressure; Tsutsui had always prided himself on keeping a cool demeanor, especially since the other club members (save Fujisaki) would take the time to mock the comfort he sought from his old joseki book. (He'd noticed that Shindou hadn't given it any special consideration, as if it was just decoration Tsutsui had added to his person.) Asakano had the strongest hand for the girl's team at Haze and was second strongest behind Tsutsui, but even she would let the occasional emotion flit across her face as they played each other.

Shindou Hikaru wore a mask of flesh and bone that did not waver. Behind the blond fringe of his bangs lay calculating green eyes that focused themselves on the board without even a glance at Tsutsui's face. It was the game that enthralled Shindou, Tsutsui noted numbly; he didn't read emotional cues from a person's face when he played, but from the hands that they dealt.

_What kind of teacher did you have?_ Tsutsui mused.

(12, 7).

The board had shifted in Tsutsui's favor. Hikaru jumped back to the other corner but Tsutsui merely resumed his attack there. Hikaru tried to connect his groups but Tsutsui made use of his potentials and cut through, forcing Hikaru into making an atari and thus allowing Tsutsui to solidify his territory in sente.

Tsutsui cut off Hikaru's bigger group, prompting the younger boy into a more aggressive stance. Hikaru placed at (13,3) to begin his own counter-attack. Tsutsui's pauses after moves were getting longer, but the blond-banged boy couldn't tell if this was because he was honestly getting away with his plan or Tsutsui was just taking it easy on someone he deemed a stupid beginner.

Tsutsui had turned back to the battle for the center, marking it the more urgent of matters as Hikaru responded. Tsutsui jumped to the top, throwing Hikaru off. The bespectacled boy gained more ko threats at the top and Hikaru was once again reacquainted with the feeling of desperation via playing someone stronger than him. The younger boy hoped that no ko would be played for, after the sequence at the top, he would surely lose it.

Hikaru could foresee his own defeat. A bitter but - oddly enough - satisfying feeling welled up inside of him. He was a bit disappointed in himself at the otherwise inevitable loss but he'd gotten what he needed: experience and a proper gauge of his own ability.

_"Makemashita,"_ Hikaru sighed.

Tsutsui stilled, re-evaluated the board, and politely thanked the boy for the game. "Do you want to discuss it?" Tsutsui asked, sounding strangely depressed. He'd rarely get to, given the attitude of the other members, because god-forbid they want to talk about the weaknesses in their plays. Only Fujisaki ever acquiesced but Tsutsui wasn't ever quite sure the girl understood; she'd joined the club with only a cursory explanation about a childhood friend of her's that played and that she wanted to impress him.

"Please," Hikaru nodded, eyes intense.

Tsutsui stared at him - then smiled.

 

_

 

Sai watched with careful eyes as the deliverymen set about their task, talking in low murmurs to themselves. The leader of the trio of men - a well-muscled, middle-aged fellow with a friendly disposition - had the Meijin sign the requisite forms and explained that they'd be helping to set up the furniture for him, as per the store's request. Sai had left them to it, occasionally going in to check their progress.

As the hour wound down, the buzzer for his apartment was pressed again. He let in the new deliveryman who greeted him with a wide grin as he rolled in the new television set. Now with four complete strangers doing their jobs in his apartment - three chattering and one bopping his head to the music blaring through his headphones - Sai wasn't quite sure what to do with himself.

Another knock at the door. _I don't remember buying this much,_ Sai thought as he went from his room to the entrance. He opened the door for another set of deliverymen, one handing him the forms to sign as the other rolled in what looked to be the makings of luxurious entertainment center.

"Excuse me," Sai interrupted, staring down at the forms in confusion. "I don't believe I bought this..."

The older one shook his head with a small laugh, "According to Hirano-san, it's a gift. Said you'd know the sender but wouldn't appreciate it."

Sai's expression darkened in understanding. "I don't want it. Please take it back."

"Said you'd say that, too," the man sighed. "But listen, we're paid to give this to you and set it up. If we don't do our job, Hirano-san gets angry, you know? So please let us get this done for you, Fujiwara-san."

Sai's stubbornness wavered.

"He grilled us for an hour over this. He's gonna be furious if we come back with it," the other man piped up sadly.

Sai gave a gusty sigh, "Oh fine. Do what you will."

He left them to their work, which they returned to with renewed gusto. As distasteful as the 'gift' was - and that was even ignoring the disturbing implications - it still relieved Sai of one more errand.

Ignoring the new additions to his living room, Sai entered the kitchen and set about making a pot of tea. (Some for the deliverymen as well; Sai wasn't cruel or an elitist.) Setting the water to boil, he idled on his cellphone. Hikaru said he would be late coming home today. The boy cited he had deigned to 'grace the Go club with my presence.' Sai thought he would explode with the joy that had erupted at Hikaru's admission, but managed to restrain himself with a cheery 'I'm sure it'll be great! How wonderful, Hikaru!'

"Finally decided to furnish the place?"

Sai would have screamed but he'd hit his knee when he flinched forward, instead eliciting a loud yelp. Ogata backed up a few steps to watch the long-haired male slap a defensive hand over his leg, turning to glare at the older man. Ogata answered with a broadening smirk.

_"How do you keep getting in?"_ Sai demanded, bewildered.

Ogata only smirked smugly in reply.

"Didn't you have a class to tutor today?" Sai continued, mildly concerned. It was unlike Ogata to skip lessons.

"I had mine moved to Wednesdays now," Ogata dismissed. "If you hadn't been avoiding me for the past two months, you would know that."

"I haven't been avoiding you," Sai retorted, turning back to his tea. Only after serving it to all of the workers currently occupying his place did he pour another cup for his friend and himself. Ogata took it with a low thanks, following the Meijin to the dining table to oversee the construction in the living room.

The ninth-dan's eyebrows crawled upward at the sight of the half-finished entertainment center and just about hit his hairline when he finally caught sight of the TV. When a narrow-eyed glance down the hallway confirmed that, indeed, even the bedroom was undergoing some renovation, Ogata turned back to Sai with a plainly incredulous expression. Sai ignored him with utmost dignity, eyes unseeing as he savored his tea.

"For the kid, I'm assuming," Ogata finally commented.

Sai was quiet for a long moment. Then, calmly, "Yes."

Ogata said nothing else. Within the next 30 minutes, both the young man who had set up the television (who had given curt instructions to the other two men still setting up the entertainment center) and the trio from Geographica departed. Sai had given their work a careful look, making sure the bed was sturdy enough to hold weight and everything looked up to par. Another fifteen minutes later, the last two were done and were quick to explain Sai's new additions: a cherry-wood frame that encompassed the entire television set. Shelves were built into both sides, two each, with one over the top made of clear glass. It was simple - but elegant. Perfectly suited to his tastes, Sai admitted to himself grudgingly. Where the deliverymen had gotten the decorations - more kifu books, a decorative glass rendition of a goban complete with goke, and faux-origami cranes made of colored glass - Sai wasn't sure, but intended to blame it on the original sender anyway.

"There's another bed in your room," Ogata stated unnecessarily. The look he was giving Sai was very...restrained.

"It's a one-room apartment, there wasn't much choice," Sai replied. He'd thought of getting a larger apartment so Hikaru could get his own room but the boy's breakdown in Geographica mostly killed that idea for now. Sai would resurrect it at a later date and for now intended to focus on getting Hikaru used to having a capable, trustworthy adult in his life.

"Sai," Ogata began. His tone seemed to hint that he felt he was speaking to someone very slow-minded. "This is not a normal student-teacher relationship. Do you realize what's happening?"

Sai gave him a bland look.

"Sai, you're practically _adopting_ him," Ogata clarified through gritted teeth. This was beyond anything he thought possible. Sure, he could easily entertain a scenario where Sai was trying to help out this misguided youth - teaching him go, getting him the help he needs through social services and the like - but adopting him? Did Sai even realize what he was doing? "I understand you feeling sorry for him, but adopting him out of pity won't help anyone-"

_"Hikaru is not a pity pet."_

If he were a lesser man, Ogata would have flinched; the icy tone combined with the way Sai had nearly snarled it was terrifying. The only time he'd seen that kind of look in those eyes was in the middle of a heated match, wherein Sai would dissect his opponent and cut through their shapes, leaving nothing but evidence of his ruthless domination. Ogata wondered where the line was; it seemed that wherever the boy was concerned, Sai was ready to lunge out tooth and nail.

Ogata moved back over to the kitchen, starting up another pot of tea. He thought about maybe just moving on to beer but wasn't sure he'd be able to stomach the light alcohol with the subject that was about to be brought up.

"Start from the beginning," Ogata said. It didn't sound like a suggestion or a request - it was more an order than anything else. "How did you pick him up?"

His back was to Sai so he wasn't privy to seeing the man's expression twist into pained remembrance. "I was coming back from that study session over the LG Cup's second round results. Afterwards I joined them for drinks in Shinjuku because Takagi-san was kind enough to invite me, although I left only a couple hours later. I..."

Sai trailed off, deep in thought as he stared into his tea. Ogata re-joined him at the table with the teapot, refilling the man's tea without a word.

"Do you remember what I told you about that dream I had when I was in a coma?" Sai didn't pause to wait for a reply, although Ogata did incline his head. "He- Hikaru bears a striking resemblance-" _He looked exactly like him and even had the same name,_ "-to the student I had in my dream. My eyes just caught him and I was so surprised by the resemblance that I just stopped and stared. It was terribly rude of me, but... Hikaru mistook it for something else."

"He thought you were interested in purchasing his services," Ogata clarified dryly.

Sai nodded, teeth clenching subconsciously. That first night had been awful; just trying to come to terms with the reality had torn his heart to pieces. "I was shocked when I realized what he was offering and just about rejected him," That was a lie, he'd been too horrified to even form a coherent sentence, much less a rejection. "But the resemblance was uncanny and I- I just couldn't let him go. My god, Seiji - he's a _child."_

Ogata really needed a cigarette break. Sai had unwittingly bought a child prostitute because he looked like someone in his dream. If he'd been caught, Ogata could only imagine the field day the press would have had. It mattered little if no sexual services had been done - they clearly hadn't - but just the rumors would be enough to kill Sai's career and reputation.

_I should have that beer after all,_ Ogata thought bitterly.

"So, what? He just decided to accompany you back to your place to play house?" Ogata rejoined.

Sai gave him a very helpless look. "I had to _buy_ him, Seiji. He would have left right away if I hadn't. He left the next morning but I'd gotten his phone number and could call him. I...bought his time for awhile."

Ogata took off his glasses to better rub at his eyes. His friend bought a child hooker several times. He couldn't believe they were even having a conversation like this. It was way beyond anything in his imagination - and Ogata had had an interesting young adulthood.

"It changed about a month ago. He's started to trust me, just a little bit," Sai said. "I've managed to convince him I'm here to stay and help. I think he even almost believes it now. Hikaru wants to trust me - he just isn't sure if he can."

"That's why you needed me to stay away from your place," Ogata reasoned out. "You were trying to get him to trust you and another person would...complicate matters."

Sai's look turned hard, "Your visit nearly ruined everything."

"Sorry," And dammit, he _was._ "But it looks like he got over it."

Sai's expression darkened further, "What Hikaru looks like and what he actually feels can be very different things."

Ogata re-adjusted his glasses, giving in to the urge to sigh. There were just some things in life he didn't ever expect to get tangled up in, no matter how distantly; the fact that his best friend was essentially guilty of purchasing a child prostitute _(to teach Go to)_ was going to complicate matters. Oh, he could easily just avoid the whole fiasco if he really wanted to. He had had a life before Sai, after all - it just wasn't a life Ogata was terribly missing.

Fujiwara Sai was not intentionally cruel. The only time Ogata had ever seen the younger man's temper riled was during his earlier pro years, when he'd caught a higher-dan endorsing false merchandise. The utter massacre Sai had inflicted upon his opponent in that game was the closest to cruelty he had ever come - and even then, it was for a justified purpose. But those who Sai surpassed were not always graceful in their recognition and Sai had amassed enemies who would salivate at any chance to destroy him.

Fortunately, Sai was naturally free of corruption. They had tried - Ogata knew they had tried damn hard. The Meijin's familial ties to the CEO of _Fujiwara, Inc._ had drawn critical eyes, but those rumors had been crushed the moment Sai's one-sided estrangement became clear. Sai attended a high number of functions but had been courteous at each one; he'd endorsed a store here and there but each had been thoroughly checked over, in one way or another, to avoid scandal.

Sai was polite, and well-spoken, and most importantly - he was _talented_. The accusation of cheating had been cried only once but with the advent of recorded matches, Sai's opponent had been exposed as the true cheater. The incident had occurred in the Meijin leagues and, although Sai had never said so aloud, Ogata was positive it was the reason Sai had abstained from teaching. Sai had been naive and trusting to such a foolhardy degree once upon a time but the incident had shaken his faith so thoroughly that Sai had even begun to avoid staying longer in the Institute.

"There are other ways to help him," Ogata pointed out. Only Sai would go the route of adopting a severely-maladjusted kid to help him. Did he think he was in some kind of television drama?

Sai frowned, "I know that."

Sai did not elaborate. Ogata mistakenly took this as proof that Sai did not, in fact, _know_. "You could call Child Protective Services-"

"Seiji, you have often accused me of naivete and idealism," Sai interrupted. He said it in a soft tone that shouldn't have sounded as dangerous as it really did. "But I believe the one who isn't seeing the reality of what is happening here is you."

Sai held up a finger to forestall any defensive claims Ogata could make. "If I were to call Child Protective Services, what do you suppose would happen? Optimistically speaking, Hikaru would be taken from his mother's custody." _Mother_ , Sai had eventually puzzled out. Hikaru rarely mentioned her and when he did, it was in a passing sense; it was as if his mother was nothing more than a distant acquaintance, someone who Hikaru would prefer to avoid but just simply couldn't due to their living conditions. There were no mentions of his father, although Sai had yet to figure out if that was because the man was out of the picture altogether or because Hikaru hated him so much as to strike him from thought. Either was a sorrowful possibility. "Pessimistically speaking, his mother would deny Child Protective Services's interference and there would be no further prying. This has happened before, Seiji, and it is the sad reality of our legal system. Child Protective Services would not be able to do anything for Hikaru _until he is dead."_

Sai had looked it up in the beginning. He was still too young to pass as a possible father-figure for Hikaru and had sought out other means. The alternatives had been downright awful: if Hikaru could manage to get away from his neglectful home and into the foster care system, he might very well be moved into a home just as shuttered and lacking of care. Orphanages churned out horror stories as if that had been their sole duty; even the ones that had been noted to be well-run still lacked the ability to deal with children marred with the scars of abuse and neglect.

Adoption had been the alternative Sai had fallen back on. He could trust no one else with the delicate care Hikaru would surely need, so Sai himself had been the best option. He'd intended on working the idea into Hikaru's good graces slowly; the adoption itself was nothing more than a legal process. Sai was already getting Hikaru to rely on him outside of the law and foresaw no complications in putting off the actual process for awhile.

That is, until Hikaru had all but admitted he was putting himself through school. Tuition was nothing to laugh it, regardless of how good or bad a school was; to put that burden on a child that wasn't even legally allowed to work was absurd. And if Hikaru was paying his own school tuition, then he was likely also paying for everything else: school supplies, uniforms, clothes, his own food...

Sai should have known. But he'd thought - no, he'd _hoped_ that at the very least, something that the law deemed mandatory would be taken care of by Hikaru's parents just to save face. That his mother didn't care enough to even do so was not only horrifying, it made her _dangerous_. Like the man who had allowed his child to die because he favored his pet, Hikaru's mother likely wouldn't care even if Hikaru vanished into the night until she had to deal with the discovery of his corpse in some dumpster, if it was ever discovered at all.

"Can you take care of a kid?" Ogata pressed. "You're not old enough to be his father and he's going to have more issues than the average brat, Sai. The way he reacts to strangers is bound to set off a few warning bells."

Sai's hands tightened around his mug of tea, "Hikaru's ability to act to suit his needs is exceptional, fortunately or not. And although I am not perfect, I will be whatever I need to be for him."

Sai would also do whatever he needed to do for Hikaru. The fact that he had drawn from his family accounts had proven such; how could he afford Hikaru's time for the first couple of months on just his Meijin salary? He hadn't attended as many functions in that time, having tried to spend more time with the boy. He'd had no concrete investments in stores like Touya Kouya had, and although he could sustain himself well on his salary, the added expense of another mouth to feed along with the cost of thousands of yen each night was more than enough to drain him.

He had drawn, however reluctantly, from his private family bank account. He had hoped it would go unnoticed or, at the very least, unmentioned. This idea had been proven false the moment the entertainment center had shown up that day. Sai idly wondered how much of the situation had been brought to light. Hopefully they would respect his boundaries and interfere no further, but Sai knew that was an impossible reality; he needed them for now.

Adoption was too slow and messy a process. Sai knew he would have to pull strings to get it done quickly and efficiently. Like a well-worn band-aid, Sai would have to be swift about it; the less time Hikaru would have to mull the idea over, the better it would ultimately be for him. Then Sai himself could pay for whatever Hikaru needed: school, food, clothes - everything Hikaru had been denied for however long the world sought to forget him.

Ogata took the cue to shut up before he dug himself any deeper holes. Sai had taken to staring thoughtfully into his cup of tea, not inclined to continue the conversation as his mind wandered.

Ogata's eyes idled over the apartment. Previously a bare, simple place had transformed in only a day; the entertainment center dominated an entire wall by itself, the couch and coffee table crowded in front of it. The goban was pushed closer to the genkan, having been moved out of the way so that the furniture could be moved in. Bags full of what seemed to be bedsheets leaned against the wall leading into the corridor, and a small stack of CDs were stationed on top of the coffee table.

Along with a laptop. Ogata hadn't even known Sai could work out the mechanics of setting up such a computer. Despite his age, Sai was as computer-savvy as Kuwabara at times. Ogata suddenly recalled the NetGo game he'd played last night against Shindou and easily connected the dots. For what other reason would Sai own something if not for Go?

_He bought the kid a laptop,_ Ogata realized. Add that in to the cost of all of the new furniture and the entertainment center... That had to cost at least a quarter of Sai's annual salary.

"How far are you going to take this?" Ogata finally asked.

Sai picked his mug of tea up, a distant smile on his lips. "There are no limits when it comes to family, Seiji."

The statement was like a slap to the face. Ogata stood abruptly, striding back over to the refrigerator and pulling out a beer. Sai didn't react, instead taking another sip of tea as Ogata twisted off the beer cap and took a long swallow. The ninth-dan inwardly bemoaned that the Meijin didn't have anything stronger. After he'd drained about half of the bottle, Ogata's eyes found themselves pinned on the beautiful man once more.

"You're going to adopt him." It was not a question.

Sai answered it like one anyway. "I am. There is no other alternative, and frankly, I would not change my decision even if there was."

_Well,_ Ogata mused, recognizing the look in those eyes. _I suppose that's that._

At least Sai could never be considered _boring._

 

_

 

The sun had already set by the time Hikaru deigned to start making his way home. Tsutsui, in a surprisingly sociable move, accompanied the younger boy for about five blocks before they finally split ways. The Go club captain had looked as if he intended to escort Hikaru all the way to the train station, although Hikaru was finding it difficult to figure out the third year's motivations. He just really hoped Tsutsui wasn't that lonely.

It was just as Hikaru reached the stairs leading to the station that his cellphone belted out the theme song for Iron Man TV series. (That had been a pain to find and download, but completely worth it; Masaki had given him the _dirtiest_ look once he'd heard it.) Hikaru flipped the phone open without even a glance at the Caller ID, automatically knowing who would be on the other end. He'd gotten their new number only a month previous, and even then, it was only after his phone had been swiped from his hands and the number forcibly installed.

"It's been awhile, you jerk," was the first thing Hikaru said.

There wasn't even a pause before the reply, _"Contrary to what you seem to think, brat, my whole world doesn't revolve around you."_

Hikaru smirked, moving to the edge of the sidewalk to make way for pedestrian traffic. "What do you want, Aian?"

_"Kill time with me. I'm **bored**."_

Hikaru thought about throwing his words back at him, but it really had been a long time since he last saw the older boy. He grunted out an agreement, confirmed where they would meet, and ended the call to start another. It rung only once before the other side picked up.

_"Hikaru?"_ Sai's careful tone greeted him.

"I'm meeting a friend for dinner tonight," Hikaru stated without preamble. It was pointless to beat around the bush with Sai now. "I'll be back right after, though."

_"Which friend?"_ The way Sai said the last word was evident of his disbelief. Hikaru bit back a snicker at the tone.

"You don't know him. Maybe I'll introduce you someday." Aian was a nosy bastard, so that might actually be the truth. "I'm not doing anything bad, Sai-san. Promise."

A small pause on the other end. _"You've done little wrong, Hikaru." It's everyone else that's been wrong,_ came the unsaid thought. Hikaru laughed a bit.

"I'll message you in an hour, okay?" Hikaru bargained. He didn't wait for an agreement. "See you later."

He ended the call just as he entered the subway station.

 

_

 

Orange Kodomo was a small restaurant nestled in one of the narrower, hidden alleyways of Shinjuku. It was crowded on all sides, the path dimly-lit with the fluorescence of a string of lights resembling flowers that decorated the roof of every joint lining the way. It was a small place, dominated by the cooking station, a counter wrapped around the kitchen and lined with ten stools on two sides. The heater was a big, bulky thing stationed by the front door, along with a knee-high vase that had somehow managed to find its way cluttering the entrance.

Hikaru stepped around it carefully, entering the familiar restaurant and nodding at the owner's courteous greeting. There weren't many people inside: a trio of high-school girls that ignored everything outside of their conversation, a couple of despondent-looking businessmen, and one elderly woman who looked moments away from keeling over.

Hikaru found his companion by the furthest corner in, a plate of half-eaten yakitori in front of him. Just like Hikaru, he was also under the Gate's employment; _Aianman_ \- referred to commonly as "Aian" - was two years older than Hikaru. He was listed under Caramel but was teetering the line between that and Toffee. With narrow facial features, sharp eyes, and a smirk that just wouldn't quit - to Hikaru, the older boy looked more like a gangster than a prostitute. His hair fell in stylishly messy spikes around his face, currently in that off-shade between faded red and dark brown that spoke of failing hair dye. Rather expected; he'd been keeping his hair a vibrant red for the past six months at the request of one of his clients.

Aian was taking a long drag from a cigarette when he caught sight of Hikaru, waving the younger boy over with a devilish smirk. Once Hikaru had taken a seat, Aian shoved the plate of yakitori at him. He was dressed as if he'd just finished with a client: tight jeans and a black tanktop with a muddy orange button-up left undone over it. Something about the air around him seemed unwholesome, as if his very aura was tainted with some unmentionable crime.

"I heard you've been shelved," Aian began.

Hikaru took a stick and nibbled at the burnt ends boredly. "What of it?"

"Nothing," Aian shrugged. "I just thought you were doing pretty well for a Vanilla. Did Yamaguchi mess you up that badly?"

Mimi just couldn't keep her mouth shut, could she? "I'm trying to quit and Masaki won't let me."

Aian threw back his head and laughed hard. "No shit! Can't believe you even tried!"

The last thing Hikaru wanted to hear was another Gate employee mocking him over it. It was just another bitter reminder that he was trapped in the godforsaken place, no matter how hard he tried to wrest free. Aian snickered again, tapping out some of the ash of his cigarette onto the nearby ashtray, galling smirk still decorating his features.

"You only have one Gate client now, right? You having something on the side to make up for it?" Aian asked.

_Not quite what you're thinking, but yes,_ Hikaru thought to himself. He shook his head in reply.

Hikaru set the yakitori back down, unfinished. He wasn't feeling that hungry yet; hopefully there would be some leftovers at Sai's place. If not, he'd just have snacks for dinner and pray Sai didn't catch him. The last few times he'd been caught, Sai had taken it to mean Hikaru needed an actual meal and set out to make it. If nothing else, Hikaru could admit Sai's cuisine was making his stomach a steel trap capable of devouring _anything_. If he ate any more homemade foods, Hikaru was sure his sense of taste would be eradicated completely.

Not to mention the mysterious reason Sai had decided ramen was wonderful comfort food. Any time Hikaru looked -according to Sai - even more distressed than usual, Sai offered ramen as incentive. Hikaru was sure he hadn't given off any impression that he was a ramen fanatic, so the boy was unsure how the man was drawing that conclusion. It wasn't that he disliked ramen - not by any stretch - it's just that he wouldn't mind a little variety in his comfort foods.

Aian took another drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke blow over the younger boy. "So you're serious about quitting, huh?" he murmured, almost to himself.

"I'm tired of doing it," Hikaru admitted.

Aian's smirk twisted into a strange half-smile, "Aren't we all?"

A silence lapsed between them, broken only momentarily by the chef setting down a plate of sweet butter toast Hikaru didn't order. (The owner had a soft spot for children and knew some of the Gate kids; it made it a popular hangout for their unsavory bunch.) Hikaru thanked him quietly, cutting into it and savoring the flavor.

"Aoi's dead, by the way."

The toast went from sweet to tasteless. Hikaru swallowed the bite, forked up another piece, and ate it without mention.

"He OD'd," Aian continued. He sounded vaguely amused. "On purpose. They found him in the bathroom of that club he usually hung around."

_Mimi's grieving,_ Hikaru mused. _...Probably._

Hikaru wondered if any of them had ever grieved over a dead compatriot. Hikaru couldn't really imagine working himself into tears for any of them, regardless of how close he had gotten to a few of the others. His relationship to some of the other Gate kids felt almost surreal at times, although Hikaru wondered if that was merely a defense mechanism his mind had conjured in order to salvage something of himself while trapped as Itsuka.

"I thought you didn't like Aoi?" Hikaru noted aloud.

Aian snorted, "No one liked Aoi, not even Aoi himself." Well that was more introspective than Hikaru was expecting. Aian watched the cinders crumble from his cigarette and litter the plate of unsatisfying yakitori. Hikaru had been sitting next to the boy long enough to discern his scent: sex and ash. It was an oddly fitting scent for the older boy, as Aian could be likened to a dying flame; passion turned to smoke turned to dust.

Aian was different from Mimi, from Aoi, from Hikaru. The younger boy didn't know why Aian had fallen into their line of work and he never dared pry. Their stage names would usually hold something of themselves, whether it be an idle idea or a remnant of who they were. 'Chikara' for the strength he'd always yearned for; 'Aoi' for the sky he could never reach; 'Itsuka' taken for the day Hikaru had finally descended into the dark. The older boy had said he was fond of superheroes, regardless of their nationality; 'Aianman' for Iron Man, he had explained.

_Iron Man._ Thirteen strokes for 'kurogane', the character for 'iron' (鉄). Seven strokes for the second character, read as 'otoko' (男) - male. Read together and in the proper Japanese fashion, it became _'Tetsuo'._

Aian had disguised his given name.

On some days, Hikaru would get the urge to ask him about it. Was his name so important to him that he couldn't part with it? Didn't he ever feel like he had tainted it with his line of work, no matter how distantly? Whenever someone like Yamaguchi, or Amekura, or Kousaka said Hikaru's name - _breathless, softly and coaxing, like they weren't destroying him piece by piece_ \- it was as if each stroke of each character was lashed into his skin. To Hikaru, 'Itsuka' was a word of unfathomable disgust and terror. That Aian had chosen the essential synonym of his own was mind-boggling.

Aian eyed the burning embers of his cigarette, smoked until it had started to burn at the filter. The heat stung at his fingertips but he showed no sign of acknowledging the pain, instead rubbing out its dying traces in the provided ashtray.

"Shinya's on the prowl," he stated without preamble. Hikaru stilled next to him imperceptibly. "He asked me if I wanted to be a carrier."

_Shinya_. A boy the same age as Masaki, second only to the teen himself. Hikaru had seen him here and there about the Gate but avoided him religiously. He was playful and generous with smiles; he also ran the drug trafficking ring within the Gate. Some of the employees would carry the drugs and offer it to their clients while others would be clients themselves. A disgusting cycle that Hikaru wanted no part of.

"Did you accept?" the younger boy asked.

Aian chuckled, "Of course I did."

Carriers had a notoriously low survival rate. Aian would surely be dead by next year.

"Senpai..." Hikaru tried.

Aian didn't give him the time to plead, "Swing by sometime soon. That fuckin' brat is finally out of _Ice_ and Chikara's been bullying the others again. I think we need to hang out before things really do start going downhill."

Hikaru cocked his head at the certainty in the older boy's tone, as if Aian had foreseen the inevitable downward spiral of their lives. When Hikaru thought about it himself, he usually envisioned bodybags and wondered if Aian foresaw the same.

"The last time we were out, your hair was an obnoxious color and you were wearing that tacky 'shougi king' shirt," Hikaru pointed out with a smirk. "I couldn't even tell who was more offended, Chikara by your style or Rizumu by your enthusiasm."

Aian snorted, wicked smile on his lips. "I only wore the shirt because I knew it'd piss Chikara off. And that brat is such a fuckin' mood-killer that I'm still amazed his clients can even get it up for him."

Hikaru scowled at the tabletop, "I don't think they get him for his sunny disposition, so much as for the fact that he's still breathing and with all limbs attached."

Aian hacked out a laugh that was at odds with the conversation. He rifled through his pockets, pulling out another pack of cigarettes - _How did that even fit into those jeans?_ Hikaru wondered, slightly bewildered - and tapping out one to light. After a pause of consideration, he tapped out another one and held it out for his companion. "Those freaks in Choco are too fuckin' sick, I'm amazed they can even blend back in to society," the older boy sneered.

Hikaru accepted it without care. _Better than being in the dregs like we are._

 

_

 

A mere two days after first visiting the Go club in the early hours of a Wednesday night, Sai announced he had a surprise for his charge. Given that Hikaru had just come home from a rather exhausting day at school - his two subsequent visits to the club had been met with veiled disdain courtesy of most of the members thanks to Fukagawa, with the exception of Tsutsui and Fujisaki; the former tended to accost him and take up all of his time while the later flitted about like a nervous bird wary of prey - he had just intended to do his homework and discuss his latest game with his self-proclaimed teacher.

It had been a stressful week altogether. With the news of one- _acquaintance's_ death and his friend's new 'job', Hikaru was feeling emotionally drained but unwilling to share any of this with Sai. Luckily Masaki had been quiet for the most part, only sending Hikaru a curt message Tuesday night ordering the boy to make time for Amekura at some point during the week and to report to the Gate before Sunday. Somehow or another, being 'shelved' meant being under greater surveillance; Masaki hadn't felt the need to micromanage him since he'd first been introduced to Yamaguchi. Hikaru had banished the feeling of inevitability and its associations with the Gate upon returning to the apartment and meeting Sai's smile and announcement.

Hikaru could safely say that one of the things he abhorred most was surprises, as the only things that managed to surprise him were inherently unpleasant. From his parents' divorce to his mother's dwindling taste in men to Hikaru's own deplorable state of being, being surprised usually equated into quite a bit of grief and pain for him. Which was why he'd kept up quite an impressive glower after hearing Sai's announcement.

Sai had given him one of those sickeningly cheerful looks before chiming, "Don't sulk, Hikaru! This will be fun!"

Hikaru thought about telling Sai about the _last_ time an adult assured him something would be 'fun' but was in no mood to deal with Sai's waterworks. He'd merely gone into the bedroom to find a more suitable outfit to wear, given that Sai's surprise entailed leaving the apartment.

Forty-five minutes later, Hikaru was satisfied with what'd he managed from the bare amount of clothing he had stashed at Sai's place: burgundy trousers, a long-sleeved black V-neck with a white undershirt, golden thread inlaid on a burnt-brick-colored belt, and a stylishly large and loose sky blue sweater with big white polka-dots. He threw on a necklace made of thin leather straps and turquoise beads, then tousled his hair a bit to give it that free-fallen look.

Sai didn't know whether to be amused or exasperated with this development. He refrained from commenting, only smiling indulgently as Hikaru finally joined him in the entryway.

"How far is this surprise of your's?" Hikaru asked, pulling on his black-and-white oxford shoes.

Sai was eyeing his jewelry, Hikaru could feel it. "Only a few bus stops away. It won't be a long ride."

Well, it was too early for dinner. After that one day of shopping for furniture and the like, Sai had taken more of an investment in Hikaru's eating habits; he'd practically shoved both breakfast and dinner down his throat, and gave him enough money for lunch along with an after-school snack should Hikaru desire it. Although at breakfast he was usually left in the tender mercies of Sai's dubious cooking skills, Ogata would show up sometime in the afternoon either with dinner or shouldering his way in to make it. Every meal thwarted by Ogata pushed the bespectacled man higher into Hikaru's esteem.

Whatever tension between the two men was unknown, and likely for two very different reasons. Sai had been looking more stressed lately and in the night, he would often receive calls that he assured Hikaru were for business. Ogata maintained a rather lax yet caustic relationship with the blond-banged boy, indulging him in games and then giving a biting tutorial on whatever had went wrong in them afterwards. When Ogata and Sai interacted, there seemed to be a different conversation going on underneath but Hikaru felt as if he were missing the cues. Sometimes Ogata's eyes would idle around the apartment and fixate on some new piece of furniture for whatever reason, while Sai's would drift to Hikaru and gain a very determined look.

Hikaru had decided that whatever was going on between the two men was none of his business and just hoped he wouldn't get caught in the fallout. It was hard enough trying not to openly laugh whenever Ogata gained a besotted edge to his gaze when his eyes were on Sai. Hikaru didn't have enough self-control to endure anything more obvious.

Just as Sai had promised, it was only a forty minute journey to their mysterious destination. Where they ended up wasn't where Hikaru had been expecting - although in retrospect, it really should have been. (To be fair, though, Hikaru's expectations were always rather distorted so he could forgive himself, so long as he didn't voice it aloud.) Staring at the shopping complex sign, Hikaru's eyes immediately found one sign in particular that he just knew was where they'd end up.

" _Heart of Stone_...?" Hikaru read aloud.

Sai's grin grew, "It's a go salon!"

Of course it was.

"While NetGo provides experience, face-to-face games can be very different," Sai explained brightly, leading the younger boy into the shopping center. "When you have to look at your opponent in the eyes, it's easy to be swayed by the atmosphere or any quirk they may possess that could affect your game."

Hikaru rose an eyebrow, mildly puzzled. "Like what?"

"Kuwabara-sensei, who Seiji is a rival for, will often say things before or during a break in their match to disrupt Seiji's concentration," Sai illustrated. He'd been on the receiving end of Ogata's bitter complaints enough in his own right, but Kuwabara was also fond of saying the most upsetting of things to Sai as well, _just because he could_. The Honinbou was likely just entertained by both the Meijin and the challenger to the Honinbou title, given that the former Meijin was about as expressive as a dead fish.

_Mind games_ , Hikaru translated thoughtfully.

Heart of Stone was a smaller Go salon, in comparison to the Touya salon or even Shu's parlor. Sai could admit to himself that the dreamverse version of these salons had been rather colorful, details added courtesy of his own exploits at such places that were then attributed to the coma-version of Hikaru. Before his ascension into the pros, Sai had spent quite a bit of his time salon-hopping; he'd run into the Korean salon at one point (although he had never met a Korean insei or even anyone noteworthy), as well as Shu's parlor. The latter had been quietly upsetting but the owner turned out to be a good person, even though Sai rarely returned.

Heart of Stone was different because it was owned by _family_. Whereas the owner in the dreamverse had been a kindly middle-aged pair that viewed Hikaru with fondness, in actuality they were subordinate to Sai's uncle-turned-mentor. Sai's uncle had taken the future Meijin under his wing, starting up a miniature branch of Go parlors shortly afterwards. Although small, they were profitable and popular in their local districts. Heart of Stone was one such branch and, as the nephew of the owner, Sai had gotten in free and acquired much of his experience in such a place. He'd developed a tentative counselor-like relationship with the regulars of the salon, as they were both bemused and swayed by his power on the goban.

_Perhaps if they had been more like the Kawai-san of the dreamverse, it would have been different,_ Sai allowed thoughtfully. But then again, the Kawai of reality was _very_ different from the dreamverse...

Even moreso than the experience, Heart of Stone offered privacy. The manager never flaunted the fact that the current Meijin had and sometimes still did frequent the salon, and the regulars knew to keep their mouths shut if they wanted to enjoy free shidougo lessons courtesy of the gifted pro. This was the reason Sai had decided on the Heart of Stone; Hikaru could practice to his heart's content for free (money wasn't an issue for the Meijin but Hikaru still seemed concerned with the expenses he was costing Sai) and Sai didn't have to worry about his own fame causing trouble for Hikaru quite yet.

The bell jingled as they entered. Sai stepped in first, Hikaru following at his heels with more caution than Sai had expected. He made a mental note that perhaps Hikaru wasn't as fond of surprises as children really should be.

"Welcom- _Fujiwara Meijin!"_

The manager's choked greeting was expected. Sai hadn't stepped foot in the parlor for almost nine months now. The manager - a kindly-looking man named Kawakami - had his eyes wide in surprise, although a gentle fondness was beginning to set in. He had watched over Sai's ascension into the professional lifestyle with the kind of quiet support Sai was most fond of. The shock drew the other customers' attentions and a small clamor rang through the parlor as the other clientele fully realized who had stepped inside.

"Kawakami-san, it's good to see you again," Sai greeted sincerely.

Hikaru stepped out from behind the Meijin, green eyes running over the entirety of the parlor and lingering on a few of the patrons here and there. Once he was done cataloging everything under his gaze, Hikaru's eyes turned to match Kawakami's bemused stare with his own calculating gaze.

"This looks exactly as I thought it would," Hikaru admitted under his breath, eyes trailing over several of the clientele. The youngest person present, excluding the both of them, was the businessman currently curled over a hot cup of tea with graying temples.

Sai's smile twitched. _At least he didn't say it loud enough for them to hear,_ he allowed.

"Ah, and this is...?" Kawakami prompted, eyes riveted to the only child present.

Sai took a step back, pushing the room's attention to the now-frozen Hikaru. He placed a calming hand on the boy's shoulder, "Shindou Hikaru. He's my student."

The silence that greeted this statement was absolute.

"...so it had to be someone as pretty as him in order for sensei to teach them...?" came one shocked mutter.

At Sai's thoroughly affronted expression, Hikaru burst out laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Positive direction~! And I know everyone is missing Akira at this point, but try to contain yourselves. He'll start showing up soon because even _I'm_ missing him.
> 
> _Note 1)_ **On Hikaru** : Not quite as blunt as the canon one, unfortunately. (I really liked that about him because it made it easier for him to start fights! XD) This Hikaru has learned the power of acting and how to choose his words carefully, because part of his job was entertaining his clients in conversation as well. He'll get pretty caustic though, and if it's something he's passionate about - as Go is becoming - he'll also let loose. I just couldn't bear for Hikaru to lose that nasty edge to him.
> 
> _Note 2)_ **On Go** : Hikaru is not an insta-genius. He will not curbstomp his way through every Go match. He lost to Sai and Ogata, he lost to Tsutsui, and he would have lost to Shanhai - but Hikaru will learn at a fast rate, just like in canon. What fun would he be if he won every match just as he's learning? XD I like to crush 'em first before they turn awesome, it just feels more genuine.
> 
> _Note 3)_ **On the Legal System** : This came up in a review but I figured I may as well address it here in case anyone else has questioned it.
> 
> In short and _painfully summarized_ , the Japanese childcare system is pretty shitty. (Not that everyone else's is great...) While many industrialized countries have gone with the foster care approach, Japan is kind of slowly chugging its way there. The orphanage system is currently bogged down by laws and history, making it a slow change, and adoption isn't at a very high rate. Foster care is shitty, but according to psychological studies done in the UK, it's not as shitty as orphanages.
> 
> The laws regarding child abuse are just terrible. Japan has a near-perfect conviction rate - essentially meaning someone isn't arrested unless they have an awesome amount of proof. Most abuse cases are reported due to rumors so you can imagine how well _that_ goes. (To illustrate: from 2008-2009, around 60 to 80 thousand reports of child abuse resulted in only THREE warrants being asked for. _Tens of thousands_ of reports. Only _three_ went through.)
> 
> There is also the added cultural aspect of generally not prying into anyone's private business. If someone is suspected of child abuse, the Japanese equivalent of Child Protective Services will ask to interview the victims and the abuser. And if the abuser declines, _the investigation stops._ Just because _the one under investigation didn't want to play along._ The law can only really do something if the child turns up dead.
> 
> Sometimes in life, you really don't know whether to laugh or cry...
> 
> _Note 4)_ **On Aian** : _Tetsuo._ (Formerly) a redhead. Don't deny the obvious, guys, even if you really want to.
> 
> _Questions, comments, concrit? Then please..._
> 
> **Kindly drop a review.**


	7. Interlude I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : Thus starts the intermittent 'interlude' chapters. They're short but - for the love of a coherent storyline - do not skip these interludes. Or nothing will make sense the further along this story gets. Interludes were written for a very specific reason.
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.
> 
> _Note: Hikaru and Sai meet in September 1999._

### 

**Interlude I.**

_July 1999_

"So what did you want to show me?" Sai asked, draping his overcoat on the coat rack standing in the corner of Ogata's apartment. Unlike Sai's sparse and barely-accommodating abode, the ninth-dan's apartment looked lived-in and more than capable of supporting its bachelor inhabitant. ('Bachelor' being a loose concept; there were two used coffee mugs on the dining table that Sai was able to see before Ogata rushed away to clean it up. One of the mugs had a vibrant shade of glossy red lipstick on the spot of its rim.) The Meijin took a moment to glance over the goban, where Ogata had recreated his last game against the Honinbou. The ashtray stationed next to the board was practically full of discarded butts, to the man's amusement.

Ogata was banging around in his kitchen. Sai had yet to eat dinner so he hoped his friend would be able to procure some snacks if he planned to keep him sequestered away in his apartment. He settled himself into the plush chair, reclining as languidly as his rigid mannerisms would allow him; there was no need to act uncouth, no matter how much he regarded Ogata as a friend.

Having a friend was a new thing for Sai. He'd graduated high school at the urging of his aunt, given her belief that Go could never be an adequate career, but he'd been busy with both his coursework and Go so that socializing fell to the wayside. None had dared to bully him, given his connections, but sometimes the silence itself could be just as harmful. Now he tried to smile just for the sake of it, acted more open to conversation as the scars from his mother's death healed over into scabs that no longer bled at the first prod, tried to connect to people outside of the goban.

It was….more difficult than he'd expected. Some part of him had hoped that a shared love of Go would bridge the gap between him and other people, but that gap was a schism that none dared breach. Sai was too talented at the game, he loved it too much, he had few interests outside of it - he'd heard the rumors here and there. About how awkward he was to talk with outside of formality. A rich upbringing combined with a staggering past of isolation had made him socially inept and this is what the other pros hooked on - for if they could not find fault with him in his game, then his persona would have to do.

"You haven't eaten dinner yet, right?" Ogata called out from the bowels of the kitchen.

Sai responded in the negative, fingers trailing over one of the Go magazines on the coffeetable. The cover was written on, a personal message to the bespectacled older man about the night before and a phone number. Ogata had likely just missed it in his rush to hide evidence of last night's activities (although Sai didn't know why he'd bother; he wasn't there to judge). Ogata had friends; Sai would see him talk to people like Ashiwara, trade smokes with that reporter from Go Weekly, would scowl and growl at anyone even though people continually flocked to him. Ogata had girlfriends, had one-night-stands, knew the taste of another person's skin.

Ogata was just as vicious on the board, no matter how pragmatically he played. So why was he not as lonely as Sai?

True, the ninth-dan was more often in Sai's company than anyone else. He would even ditch his study group members in favor of Sai, cancel dates with his girlfriends to play just one more game against the Meijin. It was not that Ogata was a horrid friend, nor a fickle one; he was just not someone that Sai ever expected to associate with outside of the game. Ogata was ambitious but he never failed to drag Sai away from the goban in favor of other activities. Trying a new restaurant, hanging out at his favorite bar spots, shoving food made by those who actually knew how to cook down his throat; sometimes Sai felt as if he'd experienced more of life by being with Ogata than he ever had under his family's thumb.

"I didn't go grocery shopping," Ogata confessed, finally exiting his kitchen with two tall glasses of matcha latte. Sai eyed his proffered glass askance, wondering how all of the previous racket could have conjured something as harmless as a green tea latte.

Ogata openly scoffed, setting both glasses down at the desk shoved into the corner of the living room. He spared a moment to feed his fish, then turned to boot up the desktop. Sai stood and idled over to him, watching in fascination as the screen flared to life. Ogata shoved his drink into his hand at the first opportunity, neglecting his own in favor of the computer.

"Heard about this site from an acquaintance," Ogata started succinctly. Ogata never acknowledged anyone as a friend, just an 'acquaintance' or a 'coworker'. It had not been lost on Sai, either, that he was the only one to be invited over to Ogata's place (without getting to know the man's bed in an intimate sense, in any case).

"What kind of site?" Sai asked politely. A long sip from the latte revealed it to be the instant-powder type but Sai was hard-pressed to find it unappealing. There was something comforting about the common quality of it.

Ogata gave him a vaguely judgmental look, "As if you'd be interested in any website not related to Go?"

Touche.

NetGo looked to be a fascinating concept. Ogata explained most of the members were nothing more than amateurs, although he had gotten to play a few of the international pros once he'd escalated in rank. Sai was more interested in the growing community; a game that appeared to be dying in popularity in Japan had more active members than the Meijin had expected.

The forum boards themselves discussed everything from how to play the game to dissecting professional ones. There was a pretty vicious and active discussion regarding the last LG Cup's preliminaries, but Sai found the discussions surprisingly substantial.

"Do you have an account?" Sai asked, leaning over to get a better look at the titles of the forum threads.

"It's ' **seiji** '," Ogata answered after a moment. Sai didn't really notice the faintly stiff tone.

Sai chuckled, "Well, at least you're more creative in your games…"

Ogata grumbled something unintelligible but experience told Sai it was just something offensive and was thus ignored. He thought about creating his own account; it sounded fun and the added anonymity of the internet would make it easier for him to socialize within the community's forum boards. He could even help those just learning the game!

But if he did, it wouldn't take long for the community to figure him out. He seemed to have quite the dedicated fanbase within the website, his style being likened to a 'modern Shuusaku', and just not playing any games to level up would only get his advice ignored within the boards themselves. (Who would listen to a 30-kyu when an offensive 4th-dan was making all sorts of comments?) He'd likely just get idolized and have to fend off game invitations every time he got on, trying to weed out the amateurs from the professionals…

There was no point in ruining a perfectly good website with his cry for social interaction.

Sai's head dropped with a soft sigh onto his friend's shoulder. Ogata froze instantly, uncomfortably still as Sai just mused over the injustices of life.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" That was Ogata-nese for concern, Sai was sure.

"Seiji, let's just play Go together forever~!" Sai whined into the crook of his neck.

Ogata stood abruptly, croaked out something resembling _"I'll make dinner, excuse me!"_ as he strode over to the kitchen at mach speed. Sai was left blinking owlishly at his friend's back, barely noticing the way the swivel chair had whirled into his thighs at its inhabitant's sudden vacating.

"But I thought you said you don't have any food to cook-? Seiji! Your face is red! Are you feeling alright? _Seiji!"_

 

X

 

Ogata slammed the sake bottle back down onto the table, hitting the wooden top with a dull thump. "It's _that_ kind of talk that makes him difficult to talk to! Who just says things like that? That didn't sound like a declaration over _just Go,_ you know?" the ninth-dan bemoaned, throwing back another shot. He dwindled down into sulking mutters over 'obliviously-seductive assholes with their stupid, pretty hair and stupid, pretty hands and….' for about the seventh time that night.

Twelve-year-old Touya Akira, sitting across from his father's student, merely nodded mutely with the sort of casual air of someone used to dealing with this sort of situation. The restaurant owner bustling about the bar just resigned himself to making another call to the boy's home, hoping against hope that this time the mother wouldn't yell at him over her son being treated to another night of drunken rambling.

The only thing the owner was sure about was that Go players were _crazy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Well, who else could Ogata complain to without facing judgment? -innocent look-


	8. Rotary Cutter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : You know, guys... We're not even halfway through yet. Not. Even. Half.
> 
> Oh, and if you somehow missed the Interlude chapter, please go back and read it! There's going to be about five in total and they'll be thrown in here and there. They're important for _PLOT-related reasons,_ so don't skip them, please~! :)
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.
> 
> **Pairings** : Ditto last chapter.
> 
> **Warnings** : You know...the usual...

## 

**Chapter 7**

### 

_Rotary Cutter_

"Maybe he shouldn't come around so much." 

Tsutsui didn't understand why he was shocked by this tentative suggestion. It was expected, sooner rather than later, and it had been nagging at the back of his mind for the past week. Even the source - a fidgeting Fujisaki Akari - wasn't a surprise; she would have volunteered herself for the task of talking to him, as she was the only one kind enough to take Tsutsui's feelings on the matter into consideration. The others wouldn't have bothered with feigning even the slightest modicum of deference.

It was just shy of two weeks since Shindou Hikaru had first stepped into the Go club. The tension between the abrasive first year and the rest of the club had only heightened during that time, especially as Shindou had made it a habit to ignore their conspicuously hostile behavior. The blond-banged boy had a certain look to his eyes that gave off the feeling of dismissal, as if he had weighed the worth of every person under his gaze and found them wanting. The only time those green eyes softened was when Tsutsui was seated across the goban from him, turning the glints of shuddered emerald from aloof to passionate. Tsutsui liked the younger boy best in those moments, being the first to ever listen to his advice and show any kind of appreciation for the game outside of merely defeating his opponents.

Attending the club while Shindou wasn't present was becoming tedious. Asakano spent far too much time devoted to following the gossip surrounding the Meijin, entranced more by the man's looks than his games. Hoshizuki seemed to believe that as long as he could hold his position as second board for Haze meant he need not improve, while Fujisaki simply wasn't improving _enough._ As of late and to Tsutsui's growing ire, the younger girl had been focusing more on keeping the group dynamic at the status quo in the wake of Shindou's appearance. She spent more time appeasing the other club members rather than refocusing their attention on the actual point of the club, which was the reason for her suggestion of limiting contact with Shindou in the first place. Tsutsui had spent the last two weeks rebuffing the other members' complaints with pointed comments about improving their games if they really wanted to 'put Shindou in his place'.

Not that Tsutsui actually believed that to be a possibility. Perhaps he had, in those first few days when Shindou played against him. But with every passing day, Shindou improved: meticulously-planned fuseki, steadier joseki, vicious hands peppered throughout yose. They hadn't been been far apart in level on that first day, but now Tsutsui had lost the last two games and the blond-banged boy was slowly gaining momentum. If it had been possible, Tsutsui would trade in the rest of the club just for Shindou.

"Fujisaki," Tsutsui began with a sigh, pushing his glasses up. "You're lucky to have such a pretty face."

Now she looked offended. _Good,_ Tsutsui thought without any real resentment. Hopefully the next time she presented herself as the club's mouthpiece, she wouldn't bother putting up the pretense of being humble about it. _Subtle suggestions only work if you're actually **subtle** about it._

Fujisaki seemingly bit down on a reflexive reprimand. God knows Tsutsui had seen her lecture enough of her classmates over various slights. Fujisaki was as straight-laced as you could get, unerringly obedient to her teachers and friendly with her classmates. She got along with just about everyone and was always eager to lend a helping hand. She was a good person, Tsutsui knew that - but sometimes she was just too quick to put the group at ease and neglected to even try and understand people as individuals, preferring to sacrifice the minority for the majority's comfort. In her mind, Shindou Hikaru was making most of the club members unhappy, thus he should be rejected from further contact. Sometimes Tsutsui just wanted to shake her and point out that age-old quote that it may not be what the club wants, but what they need.

"I already talked to Shimura-sensei and he agrees," Fujisaki stated with as much professional courtesy she could muster. Tsutsui did not care for her tone but didn't pause to correct it. He stood in one fluid motion, moving around the desk he had been seated in. His abrupt action quieted the rest of the club as they turned to him in vague interest, but Tsutsui ignored them (and Fujisaki's startled platitudes) as he strode out the door.

Shimura was the third year history teacher, the only one open to being the official counselor of the Haze Go club. He had a limited experience with the game, having gotten only as far as being an insei before withdrawing. Tsutsui had had to beg the staff for a week until he'd finally given in to his pleas. The Go club had been started by Tsutsui in his first year; he'd poured his sweat and blood into cultivating it, slowly drawing in member after member until he'd gained enough to enter tournaments. They were hardly the best, barely skirting the line of mediocrity as it was, but just the fact that he'd managed to start a club at all had been enough.

And now, now that they'd finally found someone as talented as Shindou Hikaru was proving to be - they were going to isolate him?

The staff room was mostly populated when Tsutsui entered. At this time in the day, teachers were grading assignments, checking over rosters, or putting on the finishing touches to future lesson plans. He wasn't the only student present either, as it looked like one of the second years was being lectured by his homeroom teacher. Tsutsui had eyes only for Shimura though, approaching the man's desk without hesitation. His own homeroom teacher looked surprised at his entrance but went ignored by the bespectacled boy.

"With all due respect, sensei," Tsutsui began haltingly. He couldn't be _rude,_ after all. "Fujisaki has no idea what she's talking about."

Shimura blinked at him owlishly. It took a moment to connect the dots, realization slowly dawning on the man's face. "Ah… Is this about the first year that's been causing trouble in your club, Tsutsui-kun?"

"He's not causing trouble. He's just…" _Rude, volatile, unyielding, **brilliant**. _ "...intense."

Shimura tapped his pen rhythmically on his desk with a thoughtful hum. "From what Fujisaki described, he's been aggravating the other members and even provoking some of the other boys."

Tsutsui couldn't exactly deny that. Just last Friday, Shindou had insinuated some rather horrible things about Takeuchi's tastes in carnal pleasures (something about how obviously the second year was gagging for an older lady to "lead him into the adult world") but Tsutsui had been too busy trying to see at what point Shindou had irrevocably turned their game to his favor. And he didn't laugh at Takeuchi's scandalized expression. Not at all.

"Only because they keep upsetting him," Tsutsui defended. "He'd ignore them if they would just keep quiet and let him play in peace."

Shimura had raised an eyebrow at him, "But he's not even a member of the club, is he?"

"Well, no," Tsutsui answered weakly. Shindou rejected his invitations and Tsutsui thought he knew why. He was hardly going to explain that to anyone else, however.

"Then the comfort of your club members should come first, Tsutsui-kun," Shimura chided. "I can't believe I have to tell you this. To prioritize Shindou over your own friends… He's hardly proper material for your club anyway, isn't he?"

Tsutsui's fists clenched at his sides in concealed irritation. "Shindou plays very well. Better than the others and he's beating me now-"

"But does he understand how to play in a team?' Shimura pointed out, unimpressed. "According to his homeroom teacher, he ditches class often and doesn't get along well with his classmates."

Like Tsutsui was going to be impressed by Shindou's homeroom teacher. Clearly the man was defunct at his job if he couldn't even see Shindou for what the boy really was. Truly these people were nothing but a disappointment and it was no more obvious than in this moment: between the club members who would rather shove away someone than improve themselves to the teachers so quick to lay blame on the child and blind themselves to the cause.

It should have been obvious. Shindou didn't have eyes for the girls the way most of his schoolmates did, as if they were nothing more than background he had to pass through. The boys were treated in much the same way - but not the adults. Shindou watched the male teachers with the kind of look prey affix on a predator, careful with the way he carried himself around them. He treated Tsutsui in much the same way; walking back home together, he drew closer as if to initiate skin contact, his words more teasing, his gestures more affectionate. As of late, he drew back more often than not, a flicker of consternation crossing his features as if he were frustrated with his own actions.

"As club president, you have a duty to your fellow club members to ensure their development," Shimura pressed on.

_It must be easy to lecture others when you don't know anything,_ Tsutsui thought emptily. Clearly Shimura was going to go with the image of Shindou he had been fed by others.

"Shindou has already been notified to stay away from the Go club," Shimura added. "You should have been the one to bring up his interference rather than Fujisaki. But-"

"I have to go now. Please excuse me," Tsutsui cut off abruptly. He barely remembered to bow before he pivoted and rushed out, ignoring Shimura's sputtering at his rudeness. He had more urgent matters now, plans running through his mind as practically slammed the staff room's door closed behind him.

It was just his luck that he managed to avoid a direct collision with Fujisaki. Some part of him wondered if the girl had intended to collide with him on purpose, because there was no adequate reason for her to be coming from that direction at that speed.

"Tsutsui-senpai!" Fujisaki breathed in audible relief. "You talked to Shimura-sensei?"

_To attempt to talk him out of your damned intervention, but that was a lost cause,_ Tsutsui thought unkindly. He managed out a strangled assent as he tried to step around her but she easily blocked his way. One hand had latched onto his sleeve, her eyes defiant and lips turned down at the corners.

"Where are you going? Hoshizuki-senpai wants to play a game with you," she stated.

Tsutsui stared down at her, "Do you know your eyes open wide when you're lying?"

Fujisaki scowled, "Shindou already left. And _you_ have a club to run."

Tsutsui stilled. That's right - he did officially run that club, after all. Even if the other members hardly listened to him and he was left, more often than not, recreating games he'd played against strangers rather than those against fellow members. Even if he'd learned and grown more playing against Shindou than he had against the entirety of the club for the past two years. Even if every part of him was screaming at him to run out and look for someone who actually needed him - as a stepping stone at worst, a friend at best - while the obedient part of his nature told him to do as his teacher instructed and schoolmate persuaded and _let Shindou go._

There must have been something about Shindou, then - because Tsutsui could not let him go.

"I quit."

Fujisaki stared at him, uncomprehending. Then, "You _what?"_

"I quit. The Go club, I mean," Tsutsui added hastily, pulling his arm from the girl's lax grip.

"Y-You can't quit!" Fujisaki spluttered, baffled. "You _started_ it!"

"And yet here I am, _quitting,"_ Tsutsui stressed. "I'll turn in the official documents tomorrow. Tell… Osakada? Yes, she'll do. Tell Osakada she's the captain now."

"You can't quit!" Fujisaki reiterated, refusing to process this.

"You'll still have enough members to enter the tournaments, although you'll need to work hard to get more members next year," Tsutsui said brightly. A great weight had been lifted off his shoulder. Who knew the Go club had been weighing down his spirit this much?

"Senpai, you can't quit for Shindou!" Fujisaki cried. "Are you having a breakdown? It's because of the upcoming entrance exams, isn't it?"

Tsutsui grabbed the girl by the shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. His slightly manic smile had gentled into something kind and genuine as he looked at her. Fujisaki meant well, she really did - it was just sometimes her idea of kindness differed from his own.

"One day, Fujisaki-san," Tsutsui told her softly. "You will have to choose between what is best for the world and what is best for you. And I hope you tell the world to go screw itself."

Fujisaki's mouth dropped open in blank shock.

Tsutsui turned with a small chuckle, running down the hallway. One of the passing teachers yelled at him about running in the corridor but right now, Tsutsui had more important matters to tend to than bowing to an adult's rules.

He had never pulled on his shoes so fast, nearly forgetting to grab his things in his haste to leave. The other club members had eyed him in wide-eyed surprise as he left, shoes thudding against pavement as he fled schoolgrounds. It had only been just over an hour since school ended and Tsutsui had memorized the route. Taking in the time the lecture would have lasted for Shindou, he should only have about a 30 to 45 minute headstart. If the boy felt especially sullen about his sudden rejection, he would have loitered around the lockers listlessly as he came to terms with it. He would walk slowly, mindful of his steps and appearance, not wanting to appear upset by the turn of events.

Tsutsui was running. He ran until his lungs burned, until his feet ached, and then he kept running. There were times a person had to prove himself to be something worthy, even if that struggle was only internal - and for Tsutsui, this was one of those moments.

_I am not blind- I am not cruel- I am not a coward-_

Shindou's hair stood out in a crowd. It was a marker of obvious difference and it made him easier to recall. The first time Tsutsui had seen him was in the first week of school, as the younger boy deftly dodged classmates and teachers alike as he idled around campus. He'd made an impression on Tsutsui then, because Shindou moved about with the confidence of someone who understood his place in the world and, in the school environment, saw his peers as something unnecessary. Tsutsui wasn't exactly a shrinking violet but he was hardly as sociable as most. He knew the value of getting along with his peers and didn't really stick out in any sense, so to see a boy younger than him and just as lonely view their mutual problem of isolation with absolute indifference was startling.

As the year wound on, Tsutsui had picked up the rumor about a first year boy with blond bangs. A delinquent by all ignorant accounts, as accusing eyes and whispers focused on Shindou's long list of absences and the appearance of bruises that cropped up every now and then as damning evidence against him. A delinquent that no one had seen fight, a punk that never provoked classmates or teachers unless it was warranted; who were the real villains in this?

Tsutsui thought he'd have a heart attack when he'd spotted Shindou looking at the Go club poster that first time. The boy's face had been serious as he contemplated it, unseeing of anyone else as he evaluated the tsumego. It had to be one of the single most startling things Tsutsui had ever seen.

He'd lied, then. And he'd lied very well. There had never been someone defacing the Go club posters, not once since the club's start. Cruel insinuations coupled with false accusations, never giving Shindou enough leeway in conversation to defend himself. Tsutsui had played at the part of self-righteous prat and had been impressed at his own ability to carry it out, even if the hurt look in Shindou's eyes had almost made him crack. But the first year had an attitude that required not a cool head to interact with, but a fire to light the kindling.

Beneath Tsutsui's dismissive words had been the invite to _prove him wrong._ Shindou needed that prod to push him forward because under Tsutsui's discerning eyes, the boy had been stumbling around uncertainly for the past month. What Shindou had seen as a coincidental meeting was actually a planned push Tsutsui had been waiting to give since the start of the school year. No one had known that: not the Go club, not Fujisaki, and certainly not Shindou. Just as no one knew of what Shindou had become entangled in.

Shindou stood out in a crowd. It was the reason Tsutsui had caught sight of him on the crowded streets of Shinjuku in late May, approaching a man at least three times his age with a quiet proposition that Tsutsui was not naive enough to misunderstand.

Tsutsui had an older sister, once upon a time. Their differences were staggering; an age gap of 15 years and different biological fathers. Even though her own father had walked out on their then 18-year-old mother, even though Tsutsui's father never considered her as his daughter - she had been a sweet older sister to him. She would take care of him when their parents left town on business, would offer to help with his school assignments, and had even taught him Go in her spare time.

She was gentle and always smiled, but she had to have been one of the saddest people Tsutsui had ever known. She became involved with a man she should not have and was pulled into the "service industry" without care. Tsutsui would see her come home in the early morning hours sometimes, too tired and embittered to make her presence known. She would hide herself in her room and curl up on her bed, bruised and worn. She cried intermittently in her loneliness but Tsutsui would only hear it when he crouched outside her locked door, too scared of the ghost he knew he'd find in place of his sister if he dared to enter.

On his birthday, she gave him a book of basic joseki. It was wrapped in pale blue paper with a purple-and-silver twine bow, his name written in small, messy kanji on the card. She placed it atop his desk before he woke up, put on her favorite dress (the one his mother bought for her on her birthday two years previous), and quietly hanged herself in her bedroom.

The problem with people, Tsutsui had thought, was that even though horrible things happened before their eyes they still felt too powerless to stop it. Never mind that they had never tried in any capacity to either help or hinder, certain that as long as they kept their eyes in front of them (but unseeing, _so painfully blind),_ they would not be impacted. Tsutsui could have pretended not to be affected, could have kept going on quietly with his life; his parents were a normal middle-class pair and he was raised under their slightly oppressive but loving hands. His grades guaranteed him a stable career in the future, he had made friends he could talk to in school despite his own reservations, and his generally unassuming air never ruffled feathers.

But his parents were cowards, his teachers were fools, and his classmates were temporary. The only person Tsutsui had to definitively live with for the rest of his life was himself. His older sister had taught him how to play Go, what it really meant to be helpless, and the price of turning away without a second glance.

Eight blocks of suburban streets separated Haze Junior High School from the nearest train station. Tsutsui had walked with Shindou enough the past two weeks to see that the boy made no further stops, nothing on these streets capable of pulling in his interest. In the sulking state of rejection Tsutsui was sure he'd find him in, he would continue on unimpeded to the station. The senior's feet thundered against the ground as he haphazardly dashed past other pedestrians - schoolmates and strangers alike - in his haste.

The air in his lungs was burning. Tsutsui was not an athlete by any stretch but he felt that if he paused to regain stamina now, not only would he lose Shindou, he would lose all of his energy and collapse. It was adrenaline that pushed him ever onward and the moment he relinquished his grasp on 'emergency', his body would give out.

On the block just before the train station, Tsutsui caught sight of him: slumped shoulders, lethargic stride, blond fringe shadowing his eyes. He walked with the gait of someone ready to lunge and Tsutsui understood why passers-by veered around the small boy cautiously. Tsutsui had seen Shindou's viciousness only once, when he'd tested his patience and had a pen stabbed into the paper behind him under unrepentant green eyes. Shindou was petty and cruel (as exemplified by his interactions with the Go club at large) , with little regard for others outside of using them for his own means. He was also so sensitive that the slightest hint of distaste would get him to clam up and he offered second (and third, and fourth…) chances if someone's first impression proved unfavorable. Shindou wasn't honest, of that Tsutsui was certain - but he was kind in a way that was almost pitiful.

"Shindou!"

Tsutsui grabbed hold of the boy's wrist, tugging him back with more strength than he thought he had left. Shindou was yanked around, eyes wide and taken-aback; Tsutsui let go of his wrist with a panting apology, bent over from the physical exertion and trying to regain his bearings.

"T-Tsutsui-senpai?" Shindou murmured weakly, deep in the throes of shock at the unexpected sight. His green eyes showed no signs that he'd been crying but Tsutsui hadn't expected him to. It would take more than a teacher with ignorant ideas about his person to move Shindou to tears.

"I...heard...from Fujisaki," Tsutsui managed out breathlessly. He took in a few more gulping breaths to return to some dignified poise, positive Shindou wouldn't take off. "Shimura-sensei is an idiot. You should ignore him."

Shindou's expression contorted interestingly, as if he didn't know whether to be shocked at how crude the bespectacled boy was being or just be amused that someone had given voice to his own turbulent thoughts. After a moment, he managed out in a cool, indifferent tone, "Even so, I'm now banned from the Go club."

Something petulant in his eyes alerted Tsutsui to the unsaid thought of _'Not that I wanted to join.'_ A brief flash of irritation at the silent dismissal - that had been _his_ club that he'd started, after all - soon gave way to exasperated affection. With all the tattered remnants of his pride, Shindou had tried to accept this unprovoked exclusion as rationally as he could. The first year had to know of his own reputation (Shimura better have minced words or blood would be spilled) and saw no point in further kindling the blaze against him. To test a teacher's power would only get him either suspended or expelled, and Shindou had been mature enough to just bite back his cutting remarks in favor of the less obtrusive option. As distasteful and unfair as the decision was, Shindou had lived his life going undetected by authority figures. He would not change his tune so quickly.

But he was changing, because if he had been the same person who had first entered Haze, he would not have bothered with the Go club, let alone persist in going even after the other members became hostile. There would be no reason to test their limits despite his own fascination for the game, which meant something had to have changed at some point in between. Tsutsui wondered what that was but didn't pry; he had to monitor his own influence on the boy, after all.

"Yes, because they're idiots too," Tsutsui dismissed casually. Shindou stilled but that went unregarded by the older boy; Tsutsui merely moved a step ahead of him, smile on his lips as motioned for the younger boy to follow him. "Let's go find a Go parlor. I want to play a game."

"But- the club?" Shindou ogled, clearly knocked off-balance by this statement. All of the pieces were there but the blond-banged boy had yet to connect them - but that was no issue. Tsutsui was nothing if not patient. Tacticians had to be in order to see their plans come to fruition.

"I'm sure Osakada will do a fine job leading the club," Tsutsui returned dryly. Hopefully Fujisaki would regain enough wit to realize she was practically on her own recruiting future members because the current ones were otherwise useless. He was sure she'd gain some spectacular character development from her unwitting ascension to being the only responsible one in the club, so Tsutsui wasn't feeling particularly regretful over it.

"But…"

Tsutsui chuckled, turning around. "I have some extra money because I've been saving up my allowance. The kid's fee at parlors is usually only ¥500 so I can cover it for both of us."

Hesitant steps followed his own as he continued down the sidewalk. Tsutsui did not bother to hide his smile.

_Onee-san, can you see me? ___

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__Sai's heart was thudding very painfully in his chest at this point, so much so that he wondered if this was what cardiac arrest felt like. His palms were sweaty from where he held onto the plain black briefcase, nausea welling in his gut as the bus came to gentle stop. He stood on surprisingly sturdy legs, exiting the vehicle behind a short line of others and joining the roving masses along the sidewalk._ _

_'One step in front of the other'_ became his inner mantra. He had to remind himself of the power he held and force that assertion into his posture - he could not come off as weak, especially now. He'd pulled on his best-cut suit; a dreary black attire with a white undershirt, a silver-and-dark blue striped tie finishing it off. His hair was tied back in a tidy ponytail, normally errant strands pulled back and kept in place by a light addition of hairspray. Occasionally strangers' eyes would catch on him and Sai hoped it was because of his impressive bearing and not because he looked ridiculous. 

__As the only child of an influential businessman, Sai had learned how one's appearance could be manipulated to help their cause. He used all of his forced lessons on proper business etiquette to pull together this ensemble and ran every possible dialogue through his mind as he crested the steps to a down-trodden apartment. It wasn't the one-story shacks Sai had first feared, but he didn't know whether to be angered or relieved that Hikaru's mother was well-off enough to afford an apartment in a high-rise. That it was possible for her to afford Hikaru his things but she'd intentionally chosen not to…_ _

__Sai seized onto his righteous anger, controlled it to straighten his back and square his shoulders. His gazed hardened to flints of amethyst, unforgiving and uncompromising as he stared down at the door to apartment 5545, one hand poised to knock. He'd messaged Hikaru earlier that he had business to deal with and wouldn't be home until late, as it was already almost 7 pm. He'd managed to coerce Ogata into being present at his apartment to cook dinner for Hikaru (the ninth-dan had been curiously easy to persuade) and had notified Hikaru beforehand of the bespectacled man's presence, so he was sure the boy would return to Sai's place if only to acquiesce to Sai's subtle prod at being a respectful host._ _

__Now, with Hikaru safe and securely out of the way, Sai moved forward. It had been easy to follow Shindou (nee Matsuda) Mitsuko's schedule; only a few well-placed calls here and there, and Sai had her schedule and her address pushed into his hands. There had been something ominous in the way the documents had been just as readily available but Sai had somewhat expected it; to use one aspect entailed the entire scheme be known to his 'helper'. Nothing for it now, though, and it only helped in this case._ _

__He knocked three times, the sound seemingly echoing down an otherwise silent hall. It wasn't hard enough to be considered threatening but it definitely held an edge that hinted at authority. She seemed to have suspected this, as when she drew open the door it was with a wary expression and at a hesitant length._ _

__She wasn't as...worn, as Sai had expected. She was hardly the healthiest individual Sai had seen and the odor around hinted at drug use; he could see it in the yellowing of her fingers and the corners of her mouth. She wasn't as frightfully thin as the models paraded about in anti-drug circles, and while her eyes held a jaded edge, it was nothing compared to the way Hikaru's eyes scoured every person he met._ _

__Sai didn't show any disgust on his face as he coolly asked, "Shindou Mitsuko-san?"_ _

__She'd kept her married name, despite the divorce documents. Sai wondered if hanging on to her past made it so that she was blind to the present._ _

__"Yes?" she croaked out. She looked uncertain but that was likely because Sai appeared far too impressive to be bothering with her._ _

__"Greetings," Sai continued on formally. "I am Fujiwara Sai. I've come to discuss a matter with you concerning Shindou Hikaru. May I come inside?"_ _

__She did not budge but the door opened a little wider. "What has he done?" she asked snappishly, surly with feigned understanding of the situation. The tone suggested she had expected her son to commit some sort of crime soon but her words hinted that he had never done so before._ _

_Her view is skewed and ignorant,_ Sai filed inwardly. _A narrow mind is easily manipulated._

__"He has not done anything," Sai answered, tone crisp as winter's breath. "I need to discuss your custody over him. Please allow me inside if you would not like your personal affairs aired out to your neighbors."_ _

__There was a hint of threat to his voice that she finally registered, as she opened the door and allowed him entry. He brushed past her without a second glance, curious eyes idling over the interior of what Hikaru had supposedly been raised in._ _

__It was small, the entryway separated from the greater interior by a tiny kitchen. Past it lay the one-room that comprised of both bedroom and living room, a door to the side to section off the bathroom. The one window was open to allow in the light, illuminating the dreary inside; a futon was rolled up into the corner messily, a drab red pillow stacked atop it. A small couch was set in front of the lone TV, the cables stretched from behind it and across the flooring to connect to the outlet. There was no dining table, the only flat surface being a small side-table that had a mix of brown, brittle substances littering the top. The room smelled heavily of smoke, unpleasant despite the open window and light breeze._ _

__As he passed through the kitchen, he noted nothing atop the counters; neither herbs nor even cookingware, although there was a small rice cooker pushed into the decrepit backdrop. It wasn't on and looked cold with disuse._ _

__Sai knew of the small pockets where the forgotten were stashed, but they were abstract concepts; not people he knew and interacted with, not people he loved. But this was where Hikaru had grown, worn down to brittle bone and disillusioned eyes, with only this scarecrow of the woman who had borne him. It was no wonder the child had opted for any escape, no matter how dirty it may be._ _

__"Who are you? You aren't the cops," she asked, moving over to the side table and swiping the remnants of whatever was there off and away._ _

__Sai cared little over her ministrations, "I am not. I want to discuss with you alternate means regarding custody over your son."_ _

__Acid filled his mouth as he said the last two words. It was clear, at least to the Meijin, that Hikaru was son only to this woman in blood; there was no love in those shuttered eyes, dwindled or extinguished in favor the substances she'd preferred to inhale or swallow. She peered at him uncomprehendingly, a far cry from the sharp mind of her offspring._ _

__"Tell me, Shindou-san," Sai began quietly. "Where is Hikaru?"_ _

__Mitsuko shifted in disinterest, "At school, I expect."_ _

__"School ended hours ago," Sai corrected._ _

__"Then out with his friends. I don't know, I don't tail the boy."_ _

_That ' **boy** ' is your son,_ Sai snapped internally. He kept his face perfectly bland, however, moving further in and propping his briefcase atop a wall-indented shelf. He opened it, shuffling through the documents quietly for several moments. Pulling out what he needed, he turned back to address the expectant woman. 

__"I've gotten to know Hikaru very well over the course of several months, Shindou-san," Sai began efficiently, the picture of a businessman not open to negotiations. His posture was rigid, his eyes hard and clearly unimpressed with what he found before him. "And it's come to my attention that this environment is not conducive to Hikaru's well-being, in a variety of aspects. Which is why you will hand custody of Hikaru over to me."_ _

__Her mouth dropped open in shock, entire body freezing as she stared at him agog. Sai waited patiently for her thought process to start up again, flipping through the custody forms in the meantime. The briefcase was not just for show, although it did help to make him look more professional. The amount of forms needed to transfer Hikaru's legal custody to Sai was nearly staggering; thankfully, he'd completed his side of the paperwork under his lawyer's critical eyes and gone over Shindou Mitsuko's to be certain of what it would entail._ _

__He needed her to give up all custody rights of her son. Sai had already gotten physical custody of Hikaru, given that he spent more time over at Sai's place than at this apartment. It was the legal custody Sai was concerned with. He not only had to have Shindou Mitsuko sign away every parental right she had over Hikaru, he also had to have Hikaru's name stricken from both the Shindou and Matsuda records. The divorce between the boy's parents had made the paperwork even messier; his mother's insistence on keeping her former husband's name had extended into a quagmire over the Shindou family registration line, as Hikaru was kept listed as Shindou Masao's son but was under the sole custody of his mother._ _

__But his lawyer had argued this could work in their favor. With the divorce papers stagnating everything, the only thing certain had been Shindou Masao's lack of custodial rights. This had left Mitsuko the one with sole custody, narrowing down Sai's concern to the woman. He needed to work with what he knew of her, and what he saw had no concern for her child. The paperwork was messy but given the rather dubious means Sai was using to push his custody battle through, it only helped to shadow the strings he'd pulled to get it._ _

__"You want Hikaru?" Mitsuko finally managed out._ _

__Sai nodded once, decisively, "Yes."_ _

__"Why? Who are you?' she demanded._ _

__Sai stared her down coldly. She flinched back as the gaze she mistook for clinical became arctic, every line of this strange man's body turning refined and predatory. She hadn't know what to expect when she'd answered the door, especially at the sight of such a beautiful face. There was an aristocratic air in the way he carried himself but the look in those eyes as he scanned her had been downright insulting, seeing her as some sort of insect that he'd much rather squash then deal with._ _

__"What does that matter to you?" he asked softly._ _

__Mitsuko's shoulders straightened, a narrow glare morphing her eyes. "I'm his mother-"_ _

__"In blood and nothing else. You and I both know that, Shindou-san - let's not play games," Sai interrupted. "What do you know about Hikaru? What does he do after school? What are his hobbies? Do you even know who his friends are?"_ _

__Mitsuko scowled, "Boys his age are difficult and I'm all by myself, you know! I can't devote every minute to him!"_ _

_But you should want to!_ Sai raged. "Then this should solve your problem. Grant me full custody of Hikaru and you can...do whatever you want." 

__She styled herself a victim. Her husband had not wanted her, she'd been left alone with her son, she'd been thrown into this hellhole - in some ways, she was a victim of the system. But that gave her no right to drag Hikaru down with her. Someone so concerned for only themselves did not make an adequate parent. Even if she had loved Hikaru, it would not have been enough - it just would have been a less painful descent._ _

__Mitsuko thought this over. While Hikaru was the last connection she had to Masao, he was also a bitter reminder of the failure of her life. He contributed nothing and only added expenses (never mind that she couldn't recall the last time she'd paid for anything of his). It wasn't like Masao ever called her to inquire about his son; he'd cast off Hikaru just as surely as he'd cast off their wedding band._ _

__Still, to see such a rich businessman interested in the burden she couldn't shake was startling. She wondered what Hikaru had done to impress the man, especially into adopting him - god knows Fujiwara looked too young to be a proper father figure, but that didn't seem to matter to him. From the specially-tailored suit down to the expensive wristwatch adorning his wrist, Mitsuko knew the brat had caught a big fish._ _

__"Giving up my only child to you will cause me a large amount of distress, you know," Mitsuko began. "I'm not sure I could do it without some way or means of comforting myself from the loss."_ _

__It took a moment for the underlying meaning to make sense, but only a moment; the realization forced some kind of emotion to flash across the man's face. A heavy amount of distaste filtered into his eyes but Mitsuko didn't care about it - she was fine being the object of some stranger's dislike. What did this man mean to her outside of being a possible source of income?_ _

__It had to be difficult for him - instead of going to the authorities or a legal third party, he had went directly to her. That must mean she had some kind of power and she would use that perceived strength against him. She could make this process as drawn-out and painful as she wanted because when it came down to the courts, her stance as the blood parent of the child in question meant more than any perceived harm that child had suffered from her care. She didn't really care how much Hikaru would hurt if the man decided to seek a court battle against her but clearly the man did, and that made him weak._ _

__He had moved forward, a scant few steps away. His body remained lax, hands kept at his sides and unclenched - but something in his aura suggested that he was close to reaching out and strangling the breath from her throat. His eyes were colder than her own, matched by a fury kept at bay with a lips twisted down into a vague frown and a form that postured itself like a coiled spring. Mitsuko felt that even her next breath would snap the careful control the man had over himself and he would lunge at her._ _

_Money_. That's what Shindou Mitsuko wanted from him. She was positioning herself to sell Hikaru, and the very idea of trading Hikaru in for money was too similar to the abuse the boy was suffering now that Sai had instantly become furious. To have this woman treat her child as if he were some type of commodity to give away… 

He reined himself in. _Cool heads would win this battle,_ he reminded himself. Righteous fury wouldn't get him what he needed. He thought about it - paying her would be the easiest method. What did she know of his finances, anyway? He could swallow down his own pride and sense of justice as long as it meant Hikaru would be safely in his custody. 

__The key was Hikaru actually being securely in Sai's custody. Mitsuko might not know his financial power now but if she ever came to learn of it, what was to stop her from crying out that she had been cheated and demand more? On that matter, what would stop her from indefinitely asking for money over and over again? No, money would not solve this problem in this sense - merely worsen it further down the road and pave the way for her to gain more power over him. If she kept that perception of strength, she would continue to approach the both of them, coming and going like a parasite they couldn't cure._ _

__Which left the question of just how far Sai was willing to go for Hikaru. This was as true a test of his potential as a parental figure as any profiling agency could conjure. How much of himself was Sai willing to sacrifice just for Hikaru's greater well-being? Ogata had been right to question if Sai was ready for that level of commitment because there could be no shortcuts or easy ways to raise a child._ _

It was not as if Sai did not love Hikaru. He loved the boy, loved him more than the breath in his lungs and the blood in his veins. But _who_ did he love - the bright boy who had been haunted by a Heian-era ghost, or the jaded youth with the wry smile and the faintest glimmer of warmth buried deep? Which _'Hikaru'_ was Sai trying to save? The memory of a dream or the embittered reality? 

__There were nights when Sai missed the energy and joy that so easily eclipsed the face of the boy in his dreams. But then there were the mornings where he'd wake to find Hikaru curled up atop his bed, features relaxed from the stresses of the day as he slept peacefully on, and Sai thought he'd like to make sure Hikaru could have that kind of expression while awake, too._ _

_"Real things in the darkness seem no realer than dreams,"_ Sai recounted thoughtfully. (1) 

It was _Hikaru_. Sai wanted to save him, ensconce him somewhere warm and safe and watch him grow into the strong individual Sai knew he could be. He knew this not because of a dream but because he could see what kind of person Hikaru was. A bitter youth that many had given up on - but did Hikaru lash out? Did he strike at both the innocent and guilty? Hikaru had not crumbled to dust, had not followed obediently but rather pulled at the noose tightening around his throat until the strands had become torn. Whether or not Hikaru was like the one in his dreams or the one in reality, he was _Hikaru_ through and through - and Sai would do whatever he must so long as it meant Hikaru would be better off. 

__Hikaru would be better off with him and with absolutely no connection to this woman._ _

__"Then seek your comfort in either the bottle or in the drugs you seem so fond of," Sai answered finally, voice even - almost airy. Mitsuko's face twisted, likely wondering if she needed to make her demands more clear, but Sai continued before she could open her mouth. "You will sign these documents, Shindou-san, and then you will have nothing more to do with Hikaru. You will not speak to him, you will not seek him out, you will not even look in his direction. You will continue living as you have been and spare him no more thoughts because he will not spare any for you - I will make sure of that._ _

"And you will do so, because if you don't," Sai moved forward slowly, sedately, but whatever the woman saw in his eyes caused her to back up in fear. Her legs hit the back of the couch and she fell back onto it with shaking knees, her eyes wide. "I will reduce you to nothing more than a fleeting memory. It will not matter where you hide yourself or who you associate with, _I will make sure that there is nothing of you left that can hurt him."_

__Sai had learned quite well from his father._ _

__"Whatever power you think you have, you are mistaken," Sai continued on calmly. "Whatever hold you have over your son is no more. He has already discovered he can live a life without you, as you seemed so keen on teaching him. And now with me, he can live an infinitely better one."_ _

__Mitsuko stood shakily. Sai was not impressed, even as she began to speak up, "I-I can call the cops on you! Get a restraining order-"_ _

__"I wonder if you'll even get that far," Sai mused aloud. "These are dangerous times, Shindou-san. And exactly how much of this have you had today?" He had swiped his hand on the armrest of the couch, the brittle remnants of whatever drug she had been smoking dislodging from the fibers and scattering about the floor._ _

__Mitsuko's hackles were raised as an ugly sneer twisted her lips, "I am his mother! I gave birth to him-"_ _

__"And you're so high right now that it wouldn't be unusual for you to trip down the stairs and break your neck."_ _

__Mitsuko's mouth snapped closed. Sai didn't glance at her, having pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the off the remnants of the drug still lingering on his fingers. The action gave him time to think about his next few words. The threat had been a fib, of course - Sai didn't think he'd ever have it in him to kill another human being no matter how despicable they were. But it's not like she ever needed to know that and as long as she believed her life to be in danger and kept quiet, then Sai need not bother to carry out any retribution._ _

__"Who are you?" she asked again, quieter, more fearful._ _

__Weak men made threats just the same, but Mitsuko knew power when she saw it. She had been under the thumb of powerful men before; one of her boyfriends had been a brutish man, and what he lacked in luck and money he made up for in muscle and violence. He'd beaten her bloody more times in their short relationship than any of the others._ _

__This Fujiwara Sai didn't look nearly as physically strong, even if he was taller than her. But there was certainty in his posture, a calm and even tone in his voice as he casually threatened her life. She had heard stories here and there of the elite; rich, powerful men that flexed their strength to get whatever they wanted through any means necessary. Heard the stories of the people they had crushed who had gotten in their way. And weren't all levels of government corrupt in some sense? Fujiwara had the marker of one of those powerful men, and most dangerously - he knew how to use it._ _

_Hikaru isn't worth the trouble,_ Mitsuko had to remind herself. If all this man wanted was the child then why should she resist? Better to be free of the burden of raising a child than be torn to bits because some rich snob had decided he wanted Hikaru more. 

__"I- Will I need a lawyer?" Mitsuko asked in a small voice._ _

__Sai hadn't dropped the tension in his shoulders, even as he pulled out a pen. "I have taken care of everything else. You need only sign these papers."_ _

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__Hikaru had messaged Ogata as soon as he had gotten out of school, walking in stride with Tsutsui as they left campus together, to inform the man he wouldn't be home until about eight in the evening. He was going to take the opportunity of Sai not being present to take care of an errand he had been putting off, as the Meijin would just ask annoyingly intrusive questions otherwise._ _

__"I have to visit a friend today," Hikaru said, turning to give Tsutsui a regretful smile. There was an unobtrusive distance between them that Tsutsui didn't look inclined to breaching, which made the walks with the older boy far more pleasant. Hikaru had been biting back the inclinations cultivated from work to cross that distance and get closer, which he had been rather successful about for the past week. In the times he wasn't, though, Tsutsui merely ignored his mannerisms and continued with whatever topic he had been chattering about. Hikaru didn't know someone could be that oblivious, but then again, the bespectacled boy did give off the appearance of someone completely naive._ _

__Tsutsui nodded in understanding, "Let's play a game online later then, okay?"_ _

__"Sure," Hikaru shrugged. "Your username was ' **EternalMakoto** ', right?"_ _

__Tsutsui nodded, something strange flashing through his eyes. Hikaru let it go; when he'd first chuckled over the older boy's username, a wry smile had twisted Tsutsui's lips and he gave no explanation for it. Hikaru would rather not offend his friend if the subject was somehow too painful for him to bring up himself._ _

__They split ways at the train station, as per usual; Hikaru had to stop first at Sai's apartment to change attire. It wouldn't do to show up at the Gate in his school uniform, after all, even if the move was superfluous. (Why kid himself? If Masaki knew where he lived, he definitely knew where he went to school.) Only simple attire this time around, as he wasn't there on business. He settled for dark blue pants, heavy black boots, and a charcoal-gray sweater covered in foggy stars. He pulled on a white, knee-length jacket with shining silver buttons - newly-washed and smelling faintly of Sai's detergent. He shoved the stack of CDs into a small satchel, along with his wallet._ _

__The Gate was only mildly-populated when Hikaru finally reached it. There were a couple new faces he saw as he went up the stairs to reach the main room, but they were older than himself and he didn't care enough to greet them. He took off his jacket as he ascended, throwing it onto the rack set up to the side of the room where such belongings were temporarily held. It kept the garments in noticeable view of the room's occupants so that stealing was discouraged while also keeping them out of the way._ _

__The room itself was as noisy as ever, although it was hardly crowded; a trio of high school-aged girls had taken over one plush couch and were talking at length about their latest clients as they did their nails. Mimi had commandeered her own couch and was chatting pleasantly with the long-haired Hibiki, whose graceful appearance belied a bitchy, petty personality. Shanhai looked like he was trying to take a nap, curled up in the dilapidated armchair he so favored. Seated on the couch next to him was Chikara, who had perked up at Hikaru's appearance and given the blond-banged boy a wide smile. Aian was next to him, deep in a one-sided argument with the younger boy lying listlessly on the floor before them._ _

__Mussed, russet brown hair and bored dark brown eyes - Rizumu was awake. His head lolled to the side as Hikaru drew near so that the blond-banged boy could see he had one earphone positioned into his right ear, connected to a worn-looking CD player. His expression was an inexpressive deadpan colored with the fog of a lack of sleep, and his entire right arm was wrapped in the tight fit of bandages. He looked tired and sickly, as he always had since August._ _

__"Itsuka, welcome home~!" Mimi crooned out from the opposite side of the room._ _

__Hikaru turned around to snap something at her, but by then a pale hand had snaked around his wrist and yanked him forward. He tumbled gracelessly, two sets of hands manhandling him until he was squeezed into the spot between both Chikara and Aian. It had been so long since someone had touched him so carelessly that Hikaru froze and allowed it, nearly kicking Rizumu in the hip as he fell._ _

__"Finally bothered to show up, kid?" Aian jeered good-naturedly. "Masaki'll be pleased."_ _

__Hikaru looked around with a small frown, rearranging himself into a more comfortable position. "Where is he, anyway? I didn't see his blond ass in the lobby."_ _

__"Mm, out on business," Chikara answered, leaning his head against Hikaru's shoulder. Chikara was a pretty, older teen; closer to Masaki in age and subordinate only to their blond boss and the whimsical Shinya. His skin was pale, his dark hair permed into loose curls that fell around his shoulders attractively. He'd taken a liking to Hikaru upon their first meeting and hooked on to him whenever they showed up at the Gate at the same time. "Mimi said she hasn't seen him all afternoon."_ _

__"Hunting."_ _

__Hikaru turned his eyes to the boy still slouched on the floor. Rizumu had wriggled onto his left side, curled up as if to shield his midsection from attack. There was a slight shiver to his whole body but he didn't seem concerned by it, dull eyes reserved for criticizing his bandaged arm in contempt._ _

__"He's hunting with Yuuma," Rizumu clarified. "I heard that bitch talking about the mark. Masaki seemed really pissy about it."_ _

__"How interesting," Chikara chuckled. "I guess someone tried to run."_ _

__Yuuma, better known as the 'Dog' for his occupation: hunting down those Masaki set him on. If someone tried to leave the Gate without formal consent, Masaki would go after them. He would either unleash Yuuma to drag them back or would follow the other teen on the trail to corner them, depending primarily on his mood. Regardless, both options resulted in a punishment that the prey didn't always survive._ _

__Hikaru sighed in relief. As long as Masaki wasn't here, that meant he didn't have to hear a lecture over Amekura again. The teen texted him far too much about the man, so much so that Hikaru had begun texting his last customer a small blurb each day to keep him happy. He was thinking of skipping his Saturday class again to go see him for this week, so this way he could spend almost every night and all of Sunday over at Sai's place. Not to mention, with Tsutsui tailing him after school now, it was just easier to meet with Amekura in one quick tryst a week and message him daily to keep him content._ _

Aian offered him another cigarette but Hikaru merely passed it on to Chikara, preferring to dig through his bag. He dropped the stack of CDs next to Rizumu with a pointed look and no explanation. For his part, the russet-haired boy pawed through them and checked each out critically. After a few minutes, he settled on Fuji Keiko's _"Woman of Shinjuku"_ CD and popped it into his player. 

__"You aren't going to ask?" Hikaru inquired after a moment, turning careful eyes on the reclined Chikara. The older boy took a generous drag of his cigarette, seemingly savoring the flavor as he exhaled the smoke. It curled up in arcs and evaporated into the dark air of the ceiling. Hibiki opened the closest window with a pointed huff, stomping away to complain loudly to the manicure-applying trio._ _

__"About you being shelved, you mean?" Chikara asked, holding up the cigarette to Hikaru's lips. He took a reluctant drag himself at Chikara's insistence, the older boy drawing the burning stick away to tap the ash lightly onto the sidetable. It was already covered in scratches and burn marks, so what could a few more hurt? He took the next smoke, a smile curling his lips as he took it suggestively slow._ _

__"Indirect kiss," he giggled at Hikaru's look._ _

__The blond-banged boy stared at him, deadpan, but Aian snorted and muttered something derogatory around his own joint. He let out a yelp when Rizumu abruptly kicked his shin, leaping up to better defend himself._ _

__Rizumu drew himself up impressively fast, sidling quickly around the looming form of Aian and slipping into his now-vacated seat without a backwards glance. The former redhead stared at the empty space on the floor vacantly, momentarily stunned, as Rizumu shoved the other earphone into Hikaru's ear. Chikara laughed raucously, nearly dropping his cigarette in his mirth._ _

Aian turned furious eyes onto the younger boy, "I'm going to fuckin' _strangle_ you, you fucking-" 

__"Outsmarted by the unwilling addict! Oh, I can tell you're going to be a great carrier already, you oaf!" Chikara cackled gleefully. Aian whirled on the curly-haired teen, scowling and already beginning to rant with a mix of death threats and insults. It was hard to tell if Chikara even heard him through his chortles._ _

The smoke from Chikara's last exhale lingered in the air and stung at Hikaru's eyes and nostrils but the younger boy didn't complain. Hikaru kept still, wary of moving and causing Rizumu's right arm any pain or discomfort. The other boy was leaned against his side, as intimate as Chikara, although his right arm was propped wrist-up in his lap so that they could both watch the blood seep through his bandages. 

_"For a butterfly who lives in a town of neon lights_

_Those words were too sweet to resist_

_What a fool What a fool I am_

_To be tricked like that_

_This night is too chilly_

_I'm a woman of Shinjuku…"_

__

____ _

__

__Sai shuffled through the forms. His lawyer had highlighted whatever required Shindou Mitsuko's signature in neon green, and each part was now marked with her writing. The only thing left after these forms were mailed in was updating his own family registry, which would be just as troublesome; not because it was difficult or particularly tedious, just because it put him in the direct path of talking to his father._ _

__His self-imposed alienation from his family had begun young but had no legal roots. He was bound, however distantly, to the Fujiwara name - and this meant he had a direct effect on the family registry. By adopting Hikaru, the boy's name would have to be added to the Fujiwara line, which would definitely set off every alarm bell possible. Sai had yet to be contacted by any of his family members recently, although there had definitely been some upper-level string-pulling when he'd been working on getting the adoption papers. His lawyer had gotten ahold of all the relevant paperwork within a week when it should have taken several; there had been no homestudy, just a certification of one and that Sai had passed; there would be no series of meetings, no haggling over the custody dispute, and - as his lawyer assured - no appearances at court as long as Mitsuko signed the papers._ _

_"You'll find that the law is not as inclined to insuring the safety of children from their families,"_ his lawyer had disputed. _"So this route is really the best way if you want the boy. If it can be resolved outside of the courts, then why not?"_

__At least Sai didn't have to go with his lawyer's first suggestion - forging Mitsuko's signature and essentially just stealing Hikaru away from under her nose. Not that he hadn't thought about it…_ _

__After he'd locked to documents safely away in the briefcase, not wanting to risk her ruining them in some way, he pulled out the folded duffel bag he had stuffed inside and also picked up what looked like one of Hikaru's old school bags. He began to pack away anything of value that looked to belong to the boy. Mitsuko had waved him in the direction of the closet, curled up on the couch and watching him with distrustful eyes. Some of Hikaru's clothes were folded and stood in short piles on the floor, which Sai scooped up and threw into the duffel. All of the child's accessories were placed gingerly into the briefcase, and the Gameboy and its associated games went into the schoolbag. There wasn't as much as Sai had expected, but then again, Hikaru stored quite a few of his things in Sai's apartment now._ _

__"My lawyer will contact you some time within the week to finalize everything. You will not need to make any court appearances and I will deal with the family registry," Sai said, slinging the duffel over his shoulder and grabbing hold of his briefcase. "You will not see Hikaru again, Shindou-san, and he will never see you."_ _

__He gave her a long, level look; hopefully this would be the last time he ever saw her, too. The words he had kept at bay were caught in his throat. There were so many things he wanted to say to her: to yell at her for what she'd allowed to happen to Hikaru, to shake her and demand she make up for it in some way, to hit her until she hurt as much as Hikaru did. Even now, with the forms guaranteeing Hikaru's safety in his grasp, he still wanted to tear her to pieces and set her aflame, watch her crumble to ash so that the scars she had left on her son would heal._ _

__But those scars wouldn't heal because those kinds of injuries lasted a lifetime, and Shindou Mitsuko was now nothing more than ineffectual blight of an existence. Sai could and would ignore her, give her no further thought as he left through her doorway, because he had what he needed. She would never be able to take it away or touch it again._ _

_I don't need to crush you,_ Sai thought unfavorably as he turned and headed out the door. _The world is doing a fine enough job of that without me._

__The apartment door slammed shut behind him, locking with an audible click, but Sai didn't care. He checked the time on his watch: a quarter past eight. He was making better time than he thought and the idea of going home to decent food and Hikaru made his steps lighter and faster. He would have to address the issue of the under-the-table adoption with Hikaru sooner rather than later. He had decided to just get the legal matter out of the way without telling Hikaru until after it was done. He didn't want to add stress should it become drawn-out for any reason._ _

__He was worried about how well Hikaru would take it, though. Just buying him furniture had caused the boy a nervous breakdown - and now adoption? Sai would have to make sure to be ready for anything when he did tell Hikaru. He had half a mind to force Ogata to stand outside his apartment door, in case Hikaru snapped and tried to flee. He'd rather not involve Ogata too deeply into his and Hikaru's personal matters, even if the man had been offering up his services as of late._ _

_Perhaps I will tell Hikaru on Sunday, when I'm sure all of the paperwork has been settled,_ Sai mused. 

__"Fujiwara Sai-san?"_ _

__Sai paused, turning to blink at the teen who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He had just barely reached the landing of the apartment complex's stairs, but in the alleyway that joined the entrance to the streets there was only one exit; the teen had to have been waiting in the shadows under the staircase to be behind him, because Sai had heard no one else as he descended._ _

__The teen wasn't alone, either; two other teens flanked him on both sides. They both were a head taller than the blond boy, lithe with muscle that they had hidden underneath baggy clothes and jackets. The blond teen that had spoken looked vaguely-familiar but Sai couldn't place why. The way he eyed Sai's briefcase with a vague look of surprise was alarming, especially since the other two teens were eyeing Sai like they couldn't wait to eat him._ _

"We've never met," the blond greeted cheerfully. His eyes were distinctly unkind, distorting whatever image the blond sought to present. "And I curiously heard _nothing_ about you from Itsuka. But that's okay, because we're going to get acquainted really well soon~!" 

__Now Sai remembered. Late at night on the streets of Shinjuku, he'd found Hikaru - who had been with another boy. A boy that had pointed out a possible client and then melted back into the crowds. One that knew of 'Itsuka' and helped him along._ _

__One of the boys flipped open a switchblade with a leer._ _

_"Itsuka is mine,"_ the blond continued. His cheerful tone had been dropped, his eyes dead and lips unsmiling. He was lax, lurched forward, and in the shadows of the alleyway he looked as close to a demon a person could get. A tight knot of fear coiled itself in Sai's gut, his feet unmoving even as his mind screamed at him to run. 

"If you want him, you come to _me_ \- not to that cunt who thinks she owns him," the blond sneered. "And those pretty little pieces of paper mean nothing to me. Whether you want to play keeper or just fuck him, _you bargain with me."_

The coil of fear uncurled just enough to supplement the _anger_. Sai's eyes narrowed, understanding dawning in darkening violet eyes. "So _'Itsuka'_ is your fault?" 

__The blond's features twisted into something too horrible to be considered a grin, "No, it was just either 'Itsuka' or 'dead', and he chose 'Itsuka'."_ _

__The teen paused, evaluating Sai slowly. The Meijin couldn't tell what the teen was seeing; god knows he looked like a well-off businessman in this outfit and he was certainly tall enough to come across as imposing. However, he wasn't the one holding a weapon or had a definitive history of violence. This small group of teens looked like they'd lived on the wilder side of life their entire upbringing and had no qualms about getting their hands dirty._ _

__"Itsuka's not a victim, you know. He's a product." It was a quiet admission. Sai was surprised the volatile teen could sound so gentle, but in a way, it was as if the blond wasn't even addressing him; his eyes had taken on a far-away look as he spoke. "The world's smug way of reminding people that no matter how civilized we become, we're still utterly barbaric."_ _

The blond drew back to himself, manic smile once again on his lips. "But that's that! Anyway, let's get started on that _date,_ Fujiwara-san!" 

__The second teen had produced his own switchblade, and now all three were advancing on him. Sai made to turn and flee to the best of his abilities - how had they found him in the first place? - when the three boys froze in their steps, smiles falling off their faces as they hunched together in a feral display of threat._ _

Sai knew why a moment later, as four men moved past him from both sides and obscured him from the teens' view. They were tall men, built with muscle and dressed in impressive suits that marked them levels above their younger counterparts. Hair was trimmed short as to not get in the way, in contrast to the dyed, spiky style so favored by adolescents. These men looked professional, intimidating, and most importantly - _experienced._

__A hand settled comfortably on Sai's arm as the leader drew even with him. The Meijin had already known who it would be without looking, though, especially as the smell of smoke permeated the otherwise fresh air._ _

__"Little kids shouldn't be sticking their runny noses into adult business," Kawai Tetsuya called out teasingly, the barest hint of a threat lacing his words and turning them acidic. "Shall we teach you brats some manners?"_ _

_Saved by a devil._ Sai didn't know whether to cry in relief or laugh at the very madness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Kawai~! You're finally here! -maniacal laugh-
> 
> - _"Onee-san"_ : a respectful way to say 'big sister'.
> 
> (1) A line from Murasaki's "Tale of Genji".
> 
> _Note 1)_ **Family Registration System** : Known as _'koseki',_ the FRS is basically just an official family tree. In cases of marriage, the person marrying in (usually the wife) takes on the surname and is added to the spouse's tree. In divorce, the one being divorced may keep the surname (as Mitsuko has done) but their name in the FRS is X-ed out. As the child, Hikaru keeps his father's name even if he is under his mother's sole custody. If Mitsuko had wanted, she could have moved Hikaru into her family tree instead, but she hadn't bothered.
> 
> _Note 2)_ **Tsutsui Kimihiro** : In canon, he's a fan of Go, an excellent tactician, dedicated to his Go club, and one of the few who doesn't piss in fear when confronted by Kaga. In this story, he's a fan of Go, an excellent tactician, dedicated to the memory of his late sister, and is desperate to prove to himself that he is capable of helping _someone._ For example, he started the Go club in memory of his sister, the one who taught him the game. But when he ran into someone who reminded him of her (Hikaru) and saw that he could help, at least a little bit, Tsutsui dropped the club to pursue that position instead. As for his NetGo username _(EternalMakoto),_ it's a tribute to his late sister.
> 
> _Note 3)_ **Fujisaki Akari** : I am not even close to being done with her...
> 
> _Note 4)_ **the Fujiwara family** : Daddy is _terrifying._
> 
> As always, thank you for dropping reviews! You guys are fun to hear from! XD
> 
> Questions, comments, concrit? _Then please..._
> 
>  
> 
> **Kindly drop a review.**


	9. Delicate Lining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : Thank you guys so much! The feedback for the prior chapter was great, and I'm glad Tsutsui and Kawai were so well-received! :)
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.
> 
> **Pairings** : Ditto last chapter.
> 
> **Warnings** : You should know already... But for this chapter - BE STRONG, GUYS.

**Chapter 8**

_Delicate Lining_

* * *

Ogata finished drying the wok, hanging it on the provided hook in front of the stove. There was something oddly comforting in the routine ministrations, and the inner romantic that he usually pushed down into a barely-there voice was rather vocally singing praises of his current situation. It was disturbingly domestic, especially given his history, but it definitely felt like a step in the right direction.

Sai had called _him_ to come watch over his precious brat. As Hikaru wasn't as irritating as the other snot-nosed kids his age - although he _was_ irritating in a variety of different ways, such as looking unbearably amused whenever Sai set Ogata floundering with his tendency to invade the ninth-dan's personal space - Ogata didn't really mind. Although it wasn't quite like watching over Akira, as the straight-laced boy was practically a tiny adult, it was still rather entertaining to trade jibes with the blond-banged kid. The brat could hold his own against Ogata and, whenever he was feeling particularly petty, he'd dredge up all sorts of insults that would sometimes throw even Ogata off his game. If Akira was more like his father with his reserved attitude, than Hikaru must be more like that damned Kuwabara; always ready to trade jabs and never bothering to hold back.

Ogata didn't think Sai would much appreciate him teaching his volatile charge even more curses, but Sai likely had some skewed view of youth. Not every kid was a Touya Akira and Ogata was aware enough to realize just how sordid adolescents had become. If it wasn't for his already-turbulent history, Ogata would have thought the worse about Hikaru; knowing what he knew now, it was more a case of helping the boy adjust to his new environment.

The Go pro didn't dare breach the small area of the hall, wary of intruding on anything the child had deemed as personal space. It may be Sai's apartment but to Hikaru's mental state, it was his territory; the bedroom and the bathroom were off-limits whenever the boy was present in either. Ogata did not want any of his actions mistaken (again) and it was best he keep the proper distance, especially since they were still alone. Sai's presence usually ebbed away the tension and created a safe, stable atmosphere; with only Ogata in the apartment, Hikaru may very well mistake the private setting for a setup.

Hikaru had come home around 8:45pm, citing spending time with his friend from the Go club. It was amazing to the pro that only a month ago the boy had been disconnected from everyone in his school and essentially running about wild on the streets, but now had joined a club and actually followed the rule over his _curfew_. (That had been fun to be present for: Hikaru's expression went from incredulous, to irritated, to restrained; Sai had won with the application of watery-eyes and a quiet complaint about "wanting to eat dinner together.") In many ways, Hikaru didn't seem to be the same boy he'd first met when he'd barged into Sai's apartment. There would be times when Hikaru got too close and free with his touch, but all Ogata had to do was ignore it - and really, it wasn't like Sai was any less touchy-feely - and forcefully remind Hikaru of his 'you-are-a-kid' status with either a galling call of "brat!" or just messing up the boy's hair.

When the apartment door opened, Ogata was quick to enter the living room. Sai closed the door behind him, locking it with one hand as he stepped out of his shoes. Ogata spent a moment just taking in the other man's appearance - for such an androgynous figure, Sai made a handsome man - before managing out a confident _"Welcome home."_

Sai looked up, giving his friend a wan smile and quiet _"I'm home."_ Dark eyes took the room into account as he set the briefcase down and off to the side. Even if Hikaru saw it, he wouldn't be able to get in; it was top-of-line and complete with a lock.

"Where's Hikaru?" Sai asked. He sounded tired but Ogata had expected that; meeting with the boy's mother was going to be a draining affair. The bespectacled man had wanted to tag along but had been rebuffed, with the Meijin stating he alone would be enough and if he really needed the extra threat, then his lawyer was on call.

"Taking a bath," Ogata answered.

Sai gave a short nod and only then did he start to peel of his winter coat. Ogata could see why a moment later; although the coat had hidden it well, splotches of red had dyed the fabric of both Sai's collar and the sleeve of his right arm.

Ogata moved forward instantly, taking the jacket from Sai and throwing it onto the couch without care. He gently grabbed the long-haired man by the wrist, pulling his arm close to examine it, heart thudding rapidly.

"What the hell happened?" he hissed with half-a-mind to rip open the other man's shirt.

Sai looked a thousand years older when he replied, "It's not mine, Seiji."

The statement was both relieving and terrifying. Ogata dropped his hold when Sai gave his arm a soft tug and started down the hall with swift strides. Hesitating for only a moment, Ogata trailed after him but at a distance. Taking in the stride and ease of movement, Ogata could correctly conclude that Sai was not injured physically. The chances of the Meijin actually being actively involved in whatever brawl had caused the spatter were thus diminished.

Sai glanced at the bathroom door as he passed it but only the light sound of the shower nozzle being used was audible. His tensed shoulders relaxed only slightly as he passed without comment, unbuttoning his shirt as he rushed into his room. In only a short moment of time, Sai had pulled off both his shirt and overcoat, choosing a less formal button-up dress shirt sans tie. He grabbed the gore-splattered items and moved past Ogata, rushing back down the hallway and towards the kitchen.

Ogata understood only once Sai had pulled out a trash bag and dumped his clothes inside. Tying it closed, he slipped back into his shoes as he once again exited the apartment.

Ogata hurried after him, harried. "Sai, you can't just dump it in public, someone might ope-"

The ninth-dan choked back his words when Sai came to a halt only halfway down the corridor. Ogata saw why: an older man was leaned against the interior stairwell, idly playing with a zippo lighter as he smiled at Sai's approaching figure. The suit he wore was completely dark, black on darkest blue, and although there was a friendly smile on his lips there was something dangerous in the way he slumped against the bannister. Dark brown hair, lightly-thinning in the back, was spiked in messy clumps that - oddly enough - seemed to suit the otherwise gaunt face. Ogata couldn't decide if the man reminded him more of the ruffians hanging about in Go parlors or the perverted uncle everyone seemed to have around.

"The clothes," Sai stated professionally, handing the older man the bag. He took it with a light chuckle, eyes dancing as he looked over the Meijin's shoulder and took in Ogata's looming expression.

The cuffs of his suit were too dark, Ogata could see that now. Splotchy, if one looked too closely, although now the white trash bag obscured it from prying eyes.

"Thank you for your assistance, Kawai-san," Sai began formally, although there was an iciness to his tone that suggested he was hardly pleased. "Your services are no longer required at this time. Have a nice night."

The old man began to pout, an outrageous expression for someone twice Sai's age. "Hey, there's no need to be so formal, _bocchama_. I can take care of this easily enough, you know?"

Sai didn't say anything in response. If the situation hadn't been so surreal, Ogata would have started laughing; Sai being so blatantly rude was the rarest of occurrences.

"And I hear you picked up a kid, ne~" Kawai continued, voice turning sweet and teasing. Ogata knew that was the wrong thing to say only a few seconds before Kawai himself did; the wide-eyed look the older man made in response to whatever expression was now on Sai's face would be burned into the ninth-dan's memories forever.

" _Leave_."

It was with the same tone Sai had used on Ogata after that one near-disastrous night. Ogata could draw suppositions from its utilization then: this older man was dangerous. Even his very presence warranted enough of a threat to the kid that the very utterance of Hikaru's existence from this old man had made Sai defensive.

"Ah~ No need to get angry, _bocchama_!" The old man waved off, scratching at the back of his neck with a lazy grin. "He's really excited about his new grandson, you know~!"

Sai whirled, the expression on his face faded back into cold stoicism. This didn't stop his voice from being both low and furious, "Tell Father that his help was appreciated, but if he comes near Hikaru…"

Kawai leaned forward, the grin on his face too sharp to be genuine. There was a leer to his eyes, uncomfortable in its intensity, and his entire demeanor seemed to shift - gone was the old uncle and in came someone more befitting the bloodstains seeped into his cufflinks. He hadn't moved a step forward, his posture relaxed and unhurried, but the way the shadows played off his face in the fluorescence of the hallway left no room for the imagination.

"If he comes near Hikaru... _what?_ What can you _possibly do?"_ Kawai teased, grin wide. There was a slight yellowing around his lips from continuous tobacco use and coffee drinking, but a firm strength in his arms as he lit up another cigarette.

"...Don't smoke in the hall," was Sai's only reply. He moved forward without a backwards glance, grabbing Ogata's arm and tugging the other man along as he made his way back to his apartment. Ogata was able to catch sight of Kawai waving a lit cig in their general direction, smoke billowing from his mouth like some deranged demon as he mouthed a goodbye.

Sai went in first, closing the door after Ogata and locking it for good measure. He pulled off his shoes, expression tight; Ogata could read the atmosphere well enough to know Sai didn't want to hear him speak right now.

Fortunately or not, Hikaru was done with his bath. He stumbled out into the hall, dressed in - Ogata blinked.

"Hikaru, I'm home!" Sai called out cheerfully, a one-eighty from his previous countenance.

Ogata preferred not to give that much thought. Then again, Ogata _couldn't_ give that much thought; his mind was still processing the image before him. "Are those Sai's clothes-?"

Hikaru's answering patient look edged just a bit on the condescending side, and Ogata found himself wondering if pelting a pillow at the brat's face would help or hinder his recovery.

"I don't have pajamas," Hikaru replied, a defensive undertone to his words Ogata could only detect because he's spent so much time around the kid now. The silent but obvious _'I didn't really need them until now,'_ was audible enough to turn Ogata's stomach.

"We can go shopping this weekend," Sai put in, bounding into the room. After only a moment's hesitation, he gently draped himself over the boy; he made his approach obvious, and although his sudden display of affection was hardly slow, there was definitely a restrained sense to it that allowed enough time for Hikaru to pull back. For his part, Hikaru just held still with a long-suffering expression, then sharply tugged at some strands of Sai's hair that slipped over his shoulder. Sai let go with a small squeal.

"You shouldn't be able to make a noise that high after puberty," Ogata dismissed, never out of vitriol. Hikaru started cackling as he entered the kitchenette and utterly ignored Sai's indignant cry.

"I'm not going clothes shopping with you anyway!" Hikaru announced, procuring a bottle of strawberry juice. ( _Is Sai amassing a goddamn convenience store in there now?_ Ogata wondered incredulously.)

Sai looked far too hurt by this declaration. "But Hikaru, why not?"

"Because I'm not _five_ , Sai-san. Just give me an allowance and I'll buy some things," Hikaru waved off.

"You're a grown-ass man, Sai," Ogata added gruffly. "I think the kid can go shopping by himself, stop being such a damn mother hen."

"I am not-"

Both Ogata and Hikaru gave him matching deadpan looks, " _You are._ "

Sai thought he was losing far too many arguments as of late.

* * *

The events that took place over the weekend fell about much like a line of dominoes.

Sai had not set himself up for an altogether eventful weekend. The _Shin Shodan_ games weren't for another week and a half, and he'd taken the initiative to purchase Ogata his birthday gift a month prior. Since Hikaru had rejected his company for shopping - _"I'm going with Tsutsui-senpai!"_ \- Sai found himself torn between visiting the library again or recreating his last game against Touya Kouyo.

Just as he decided to pay another visit to _Heart of Stone_ (since he believed it was beneficial to keep himself in their good graces, given the way Hikaru could get in for free), Ogata came idling into his apartment with (alarming) ease.

"I bet you don't stroll into Touya-sensei's house so casually," Sai remarked lightly, not quite stern enough to be reproving and looking almost resigned.

Ogata was completely unrepentant, although he did hold up a to-go bag, "I brought food."

Properly bribed, Sai supplied the plates. There wasn't much conversation between them as they ate, Ogata content with the silence and Sai too polite to speak while he chewed on his meal. Once the Vietnamese food had been taken care of, Ogata took charge by cleaning the dishes and practically shoving Sai back onto his couch.

"You look like death warmed over," Ogata said, dark eyes peering at his friend's face. His expression was too severe to be considered concerned, even if that was the vibe Sai was somehow getting.

A sweet smile turned Sai's lips, "Tomorrow I will tell Hikaru that I adopted him. I'm...not sure how to go about it."

Ogata rolled his eyes. _Rolled his eyes_. "Well, it's not like you need a pick-up line or anything. Just tell him as straight-forward as possible."

Sai frowned, "I think I need to be careful about how I go about this-"

"He could misread you hedging around about it as hesitation or regret," Ogata cut off. "Which I'm sure isn't the message you want to send to a brat who doesn't even understand what 'parenting' means."

Sai's mouth snapped closed as he considered Ogata's point. Hikaru did have a tendency to think the worst about any given situation and, if Sai didn't explain their current state of affairs accurately, Hikaru would try to read it in the most detrimental way possible just so that he wouldn't be hurt if his expectations weren't met.

"He's not going to take it well," Sai murmured.

Ogata rose any eyebrow but didn't look concerned, "Oh?"

"When I bought him that bed, he broke the furniture store."

A pause. Then, "He _what?"_

Sai did not elaborate, a thoughtful expression on his face. Tomorrow, he would set up a comfortable atmosphere and, firmly and supportively, explain to Hikaru that he had been adopted. It was really the only way and putting it off would only lead to negative complications. Still, if Hikaru did freak out again, Sai would need Ogata to be present to at least block the exit.

"Would you mind coming over when I tell him? Maybe just have a smoke outside, in case he tries to run out…" Sai asked.

"I was coming over anyway," Ogata agreed, mentally shoving aside the idea of the scrawny kid _breaking a store_. ( _How? What?)_ "Someone has to make sure you don't kill the kid with your laughable attempts at edible food."

Sai blushed hotly, "My cooking isn't that bad!"

"You couldn't even make steamed egg," Ogata drawled, superior smirk curling his lips.

Sai would have rebutted that, but really - what could he say? That his microwave wasn't working properly? Ogata would laugh in his face and then cook something in it just to prove him wrong.

"Sai."

Ogata's tone was different. He had lost that teasing edge but there was a gentleness to his eyes that wasn't quite obscured by his glasses. Although his lips were left unsmiling, there was something soft in the way he called the Meijin's name.

Sai couldn't place the expression that flitted across his friend's face when the long-haired man met his eyes, but something about it was both familiar and unfathomable. For some reason, Sai began to feel self-conscious - likely from the way it felt Ogata was looking at him, although there was nothing in the other man's gaze that was either disturbing or disgusting.

But still, Ogata seemed...off.

"Let's play a game," Ogata finally sighed. It seemed like he'd wanted to say something else but at the prospect of a game, Sai's mind dashed elsewhere and gave no time to consider it.

On top of the sidetable in his bedroom, Sai's phone alighted silently with a received text message.

_From: Shindou Hikaru_

_Staying at my mom's place. Phone's about to die. See you tomorrow._

* * *

Hikaru scowled at his phone, "Stupid shit battery..."

"Does not work?" Shanhai asked, one hand pinching at the fabric of a shirt he had been evaluating. They were in one of the many stores in Shinjuku, crowded around the sale items and pawing through them with overly-professional dispositions. They looked almost innocuous, together: Shanhai dressed in white jeans with a sky blue jacket and a fuzzy white beanie keeping his ears warm, Hikaru in a pair of denim blue jeans and a dark blue jacket covered in a scattering of faded white stars, a thick pale pink scarf wrapped around his neck and shoulders. The sales employees had tittered amongst each other over how cute they were dressed, but one of the older ladies appeared to have wised up and watched them carefully as they flitted about the store.

Hikaru shrugged boredly, "It's about to die. Not a big deal." _But I did forget my charger at Sai's place… Damn it._

He wouldn't bother with going back to retrieve it. That would invite far too many questions from the professional go player and Hikaru was already running on a pretty tight schedule. He was supposed to meet up with Amekura in just about three hours, and before that he had to take care of his shopping errands and make sure Shanhai could get back to the Gate by himself, having picked up the befuddled-looking Chinese boy in front of the train station.

"Ichika. This?" Shanhai held up a bright orange sweater with the number '5' stamped across the front.

"I _tsu_ ka," Hikaru corrected reflexively. Then he stared at the garment, barely managing to stamp down on the horror. "No, _definitely not_. What the hell am I to you, a traffic cone?"

Shanhai visibly struggled with the translation, although it did register as he blinked at Hikaru in mild curiosity. "You wear this before I saw."

Hikaru blanched, "It was _once_ , I lost a bet, Aian is a total _asshole-_ how the fuck do you still remember that?"

"It was ugly," Shanhai replied promptly, placing the offensive article of clothing back onto the rack. This did nothing to heal Hikaru's wounded sense of style.

Originally, Hikaru had intended to ask out either Chikara or Rizumu for this shopping trip. However, Rizumu's cellphone was off (meaning he was once again with a client) and Chikara just wasn't answering. When he'd given up on them, he'd turned to Aian; the older boy had promptly answered his cellphone and uncharacteristically listened to Hikaru whine about being ignored by their other two friends. After a short pause, he curtly informed Hikaru that he couldn't go out right now (citing no reasons, however) but promptly offered up Shanhai.

Hikaru hadn't realized his one Go game with the Chinese boy had escalated in rumor-form to actual friendship, but apparently it either had or Aian just didn't give a damn. Either way, he'd pretty much forced Hikaru to meet up with their coworker at the train station, where Aian had apparently left him.

Shanhai wasn't bad company, though. He definitely wasn't as talkative as Aian or Chikara, more similar to Rizumu in his reservations. He had an air of tragedy around him similar to the russet-haired boy as well, which prompted Hikaru more and more into breaking down their social barriers.

"So are you actually from Shanghai?"

_Why did I ask that?_ Hikaru screamed internally. Shanhai had actually frozen, one hand petting at the fuzzy scarves arranged on a rack before him. His eyes had widened marginally, obviously taken by surprise.

Hikaru was running through phrases on how to take the question back as casually as possible. Asking about personal information was never done among those in the Gate; no one wanted to hear your sob story and wouldn't be able to do anything for you even if they did. Backgrounds could be bought; both Mimi and the late Aoi had been good at it, trading secrets for cash or goods. Sometimes it was sought out of curiosity, other times for leverage; someone in Toffee had tried buying information on Masaki but Tomorou had put a stop to that by strangling the offender to death.

"No," Shanhai answered softly. "...I'm from a small place. I miss my family."

Of course he does. That was supposed to be a normal reaction. Hikaru almost asked why his family let him go in the first place but stopped himself - there was a context here that he could not understand. Circumstances are what landed Hikaru here and Shanhai had his own. Perhaps Shanhai had a home _worth_ missing.

Shanhai pulled one of the scarves from the rack. It was a dark, earthy brown with light glitter; the material was yarn, so when he dug his hands in, it was as if he were sinking grooves into dirt instead of threads.

"I miss people who know my name."

Shanhai. It was a port city. Masaki had probably stuck the moniker on him when he learned what shipping yard he came from. Hikaru wondered what it must have felt like, being pushed into such unfamiliar territory and assigned an identity without any say in the matter. Then to be reminded with every utterance of the place where you'd been sold, of a place you could no longer return to...

Hikaru pocketed his cellphone slowly, eyes on the other boy's fingers as they carefully slid the scarf back into place among the others. He didn't know why he was pursuing this line of conversation - it was clearly another indication of spending far too much time with Sai lately. Not only was he getting the man's nosiness, he was finally starting to register the importance of a name.

'Hikaru' was the boy who Sai had taken under his wing, who was learning Go, who snarked as much as Ogata and had even made a friend at school. 'Itsuka' was the curse he'd rather leave unspoken, the bitter persistence of a venom that crawled along his veins whenever used. Surely 'Shanhai' meant the same, in some respects, to the boy before him.

Therefore, out of a startling mix of curiosity and sympathy, Hikaru couldn't help but ask: "So what is it? Your real name?"

It was hard to tell who was more startled in that instance: Shanhai, whose eyes had widened marginally for an instant before he'd whipped the jacket he had been examining off of the hangar; Hikaru, who found the back of his head wrapped in the coarse interior of the leather jacket as he was pulled forward to meet Shanai's eyes; or the poor salesgirl who was privy to the entire scene and let out the most indignant squawk.

Hikaru had braced himself on the taller boy's biceps, having lost balance at the sudden pull. Shanhai stood steady and unwavering, leaned close to Hikaru's face so that their eyes were near even and his breath ghosted across the younger boy's cheek.

The saleswoman looked choked on her words but was building up to something fierce, if her expression and strangled utterances were any indication. It didn't matter much, though, the words coming soft and low into Hikaru's ears.

" _Wǒ jiào Lán_ _Wén-lì."_

* * *

Sunday dawned tiring. Hikaru would have preferred to leave as soon as dawn broke but it was impossible to sneak past Amekura without waking him and the man had taken the special care to mention that Hikaru was welcome to stay as long as he wanted. He was able to get away after breakfast, citing some garble about homework and tutoring, and he exited Amekura's place with a heavy feeling of relief.

He'd made sure to take a shower and wear new clothes; his dwindling stash at Amekura's proved useful for such an occasion. Given the weather, his clothes covered most of his skin without seeming suspicious. Hikaru wondered idly if this was how other kids his age felt when they snuck around without their parents' consent, but ceased that line of thought when it caused an emotional twinge he wasn't prepared to deal with now.

He just had to think about today. There would be Sai, and Go, and possibly Ogata (and more importantly, Ogata's cooking) - all waiting for him and readily attainable in just under an hour of commuting. With those thoughts and with the long-practiced ease of ignoring the pain ricocheting around his body, Hikaru reached Sai's apartment with a light step.

The moment he stepped in, he knew something was wrong. Both Ogata and Sai were seated at the table, the definite smell of tobacco in the air as Ogata crushed the burning end of his cigarette into an old cup. Sai's previously-slumped posture in his chair snapped to attention the moment Hikaru had opened the door, and the man stood and was staring at him with wide eyes. He looked exhausted, hair unkempt and barely-restrained into a loose ponytail. He wore the same clothes Hikaru had left him in the previous morning, his eyes slightly puffy - from either lack of sleep, crying, or a combination of the two.

There was a tense moment of silence as the two adults stared at him, an array of emotions moving over their features. Hikaru felt an incredible urge to just turn around and walk out, but that reflex was stopped when Ogata stood, grabbing his pack of cigarettes from off the tabletop as he stalked forward.

"I'll be outside. Sai - you need to handle this," he said gruffly, moving past the frozen preteen and out the door. It closed behind him with a soft click but there were no more footsteps; he remained just outside.

Hikaru fidgeted slightly under the oppressive silence, tugging lightly at the ends of his sweater. Sai was too still and his prior expression of surprise and relief had melted away into something closed-off. His posture was straightening and it made a foreboding feeling well up in Hikaru's gut, as Sai had never looked so- _adult-like_ before.

"Where were you last night?"

Ice stole up his spine, a heavy weight settling in his stomach. To his credit, Hikaru pulled up the perfect act: a mix of surprise and confusion, with a slight tint of wariness to his eyes that could denote either cautious lying or adolescent suspicion.

"At my mom's place, like I said. My phone died and I left my charger here, but it was just too far to come back for so I-"

Sai cut him off with cold precision, "You weren't with your mother. I checked."

Hikaru froze, the room suddenly too narrow as his mind struggled to understand what the other male had just said. Green eyes had widened, the child's body stilling in just a way as to hint that he was struggling - to some extent, perhaps unconsciously - with a fight-or-flight response. An uneasy silence lapsed between them, Sai uncompromising as he viewed the younger male but his eyes lenient enough to suggest he knew this statement would cause shock.

Sai took Hikaru's prolonged silence as a need to continue, "I've been in contact with your mother for a week now, Hikaru. I called her last night about you and she told me you weren't there. That she hadn't seen you all week."

Not that Sai had been willing to take that at face value. For all of his reservations, he still maintained contact with Kawai and his group. Given that they had taken to staking out the Shindou apartment for however long as the adoption process would take, they had been in a prime position to validate Hikaru's whereabouts should he draw anywhere close to Shindou Mitsuko.

But Hikaru hadn't been, and likely hadn't been for awhile. Hikaru seemed to have realized he could not pass off visiting his mother as an excuse, shelving the idea of Sai being in contact with her in the back of his mind for now. He needed to find another excuse and play it off properly. (Why he was devoting so much time to explaining himself to Sai was a mystery for another day - one that Hikaru wasn't particularly eager to address any time soon.) He moved a step in, a contrite expression on his face as he tried to filter through the multiple excuses waiting on the tip of his tongue.

"You've had no trouble telling me if you were with a friend, so it can't be that," Sai continued on. His tone came across as casual, even passive, but Hikaru was only reminded of a carnivore lying in wait for prey. "And if you weren't with your friends, or your mother, or me…"

With each failed suggestion, Sai's voice became colder, sharp ice forming every word. There was nothing passive in his countenance now and it was unlike anything Hikaru had seen before. He'd caught glimpses of Sai's temper before; insulted in Geographica after Hikaru accused him of being similar to his other clients, or that time he'd first met Ogata when the man had barged in unannounced. Hikaru knew he was walking on eggshells now but no words sprung to mind to defrost the situation. His panicked mind had frozen in the face of Sai's ire and the placating words remained stuck in his throat.

Sai didn't bother to wait for a rebuttal: "Hikaru... _why?"_

It was neither loud nor quiet, though despite the even tone it was hardly resigned. To Sai's credit, he did not hint at either accusation or resignation, just a paternal sort of righteous anger borne from a mix of disappointment and concern. This was unfamiliar territory for Hikaru and he froze up, heartbeat erratic and a cold rush of strain enveloping his head and halting all creation of possible excuses.

Hands clutched at the hem of his sweater, Hikaru began to tremble. With Sai silent and still waiting for an answer, Hikaru could not help but feel the man's heavy gaze more intrusively. He felt dirty, moreso than usual, the ghost-feeling of an older man's hands sliding over his skin. Nausea welled up in his stomach with a burning intensity, a claw of heat wrapping around his heart as his mind stuttered and raced to think.

Why.

Because he didn't have a choice. Because he wanted the money. Because it's what he'd done for what felt like forever. Because he wasn't sure this thing would Sai would last.

He could taste the smoke of Amekura's last cigarette in his mouth.

Hikaru grabbed the top of the couch for support as he leaned over and emptied the contents of his stomach all over Sai's pristine floor. As it was, the second heave lurched him forward unsteadily and he lost his grip, nearly toppling into his own regurgitation had cold hands not settled gently onto his shoulders and tentatively lead him down the hall and into the bathroom. Hikaru clung to the rim of the toilet and vomited out the rest of the fairly light breakfast he'd had at Amekura's place, dimly aware of careful fingers brushing back the fringe of his bangs from his sweat-dampened forehead as he gave into another dry heave.

Only once it looked as if his stomach would no longer try to exit out of his throat did the fingers slide away from his hair to rub soothing circles on his back. The last time someone had been so considerate, he had been seven and suffering from a 24-hour stomach flu. His mother - dutiful and loving back then, before she'd succumbed to bitterness and drugs - had stayed at his side as he heaved into bowls at his bedside, doing the best she could to comfort him. Without these memories, Hikaru would have surely traced the touch back to less pleasant memories - and was thus gratified that some part of his childhood remained intact.

"I tried calling you back as soon as I read the message," Sai began softly. He kept his tone even and gentle, his hands cool to the touch as they kept up their ministrations. Although Hikaru still trembled from head-to-toe, he wasn't heaving anymore and his face - though still with a rather sickly pallor - was pinched into a tight expression that didn't hint at nausea. Hikaru was staring glassily ahead of himself, eyes on anything but Sai, and he gave no sign he was even listening to the Meijin. Sai was not deterred, "It went straight to voicemail. I called your mother - we have an...agreement and she would not have lied to me about your whereabouts, or what little she knows of them. I called Tsutsui-kun's home as well."

Sai paused, his voice quieter but far more severe. "He said he knew of no plans to meet with you today."

Hikaru didn't say anything. Sai didn't need him to.

"You were with one of those men, weren't you?"

The way Sai said it more than suggested it was not a question, no matter how it was phrased. Hikaru audibly choked back a sob, even as he turned to glare heatedly at the older male. Defiance lit up the boy's features, his face a confusing mesh of emotions: defiance, rage, terror, and unbearable shame. Sai was torn between comforting the child or reprimanding him for the reason for those reactions.

Hikaru remarkably held back his tears, an angry twist to his mouth as he shouted, "What do you know! What does it even matter!"

"It _matters_ because they're _hurting you!"_ Sai countered, vehement and frightening.

Hikaru's face twisted into an ugly expression, sneer on his lips as he whipped his hand back to smack away Sai's soothing touch. He turned around and backed further into the wall facing Sai and looking more like a cornered animal than a frightened child. "It doesn't matter, it _never_ mattered! And it's too late now anyway because what's done is done-"

"But it has to _stop_ , Hikaru!" Sai shouted back. "If you need something, I will provide it for you! House, clothing, food, school - _I will pay for it!_ You must learn that you can rely on me!"

Hikaru's head whipped back and forth, his words an unceasing litany that was half-madness, half-stubbornness. "It has to be me! I have to take care of myself because there's no one else around, because no one else bothered! Even Dad-"

" _Hikaru-_ " Sai tried to interject.

Hikaru steamrolled right over him, "-doesn't care and I haven't heard from him in years, Mom has other things she pays for and cares about and she doesn't even- she-"

Hikaru was starting to hyperventilate. There was an unfocused quality to his eyes, a feverish sort of horror that had gripped him tight. He wasn't seeing Sai at this point, he possibly wasn't even aware of his surroundings; he was just chattering incessantly, all of his pent-up feelings bubbling to the surface to be vented out loud. Hikaru wasn't saying all of this for Sai - he was saying it for himself, aloud to give credence to the thoughts he had stuffed into the back of his mind.

_"She doesn't even love me."_

It wasn't quiet, but as soon as the words left his lips Sai knew Hikaru had spoken the one reality he could no longer ignore.

"My mom doesn't love me." The words sounded physically painful, as if torn from the very fibers of his heart. Hikaru's eyes were wide, his breaths coming in shorter - it was getting harder to breathe now, the world narrowing to a single point in which everything became painfully clear. He could see it, as plain as day as his mind fought to remember anything his mother had done for him in the past three years that even remotely hinted at caring about him but turning up nothing.

If she had cared, perhaps just one little bit- Just enough to ask him where he'd gone when he disappeared for a night or two-

Perhaps he wouldn't have-

Arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. Hikaru wasn't prepared for it, having not seen it coming, and was swept into it with little resistance as his mind struggled to come back up to the present moment. Despite the chill in his fingers as they wrapped around Hikaru's shoulders in a secure grip, Sai was near-suffocatingly warm. He was quiet, Hikaru's mantra - _"She doesn't love me. She doesn't love me."_ \- muffled and, in no time at all, it ceased completely. The even rise and fall of the man's chest slowly drew in Hikaru's own breathing, the child relaxing without even meaning to. His heartbeat was still as quick as the flutter of butterfly wings but now he didn't look seconds away from suffering a lack of oxygen.

"I adopted you."

The admission was quiet. Hikaru felt as if his heart stuttered, pain welling his chest as his mind turned fuzzy. The words were being processed slowly and painfully, not quite making sense in the disarray. He couldn't quite believe what he had heard but remained silent, mouth refusing to work and give voice to his question.

"I adopted you," Sai repeated, louder but not a shout. It was a simple statement of fact, the Meijin calm despite the fury in both their minds. "Hikaru, everything she did not do for you - I will do for you. You don't need to worry about clothes, or food, or schooling. Well, you'll need to study of course, but I will pay for the tuition and school supplies."

Sai took in another steady breath. "It's what I was busy with last week. I already met with your mother and she's signed the papers. You won't have to see her again, Hikaru. I… You need not be formal with me, of course. I-In a way, we are family now, but- What I mean to say is-"

Sai struggled. Family held some negative connotations for Sai as well, as he hardly got along with his own. The idea of Hikaru being _his_ , though - it spread a warm feeling in his chest. To legally have the power and recognition as Hikaru's parental figure was something he had been striving for, however unknowingly, since he'd first met the boy on the street. Now he was finally capable of protecting and caring for Hikaru to the fullest extent.

He hadn't exactly planned to have this heart-to-heart on the floor of his bathroom, however, or next to the toilet that still held the remnants of what Hikaru had sicked up. In fact, his vision of explaining to Hikaru about his adoption was supposed to include being comfortably seated on the couch, hot drinks being shared, and with far less vomit.

"What I mean is that I worry about you, and I want to make sure you grow up as happy and healthy as possible, and I love you."

Wide green eyes met his dazedly. Then, quietly, "...Okay."

* * *

After making sure Hikaru had washed his face and brushed his teeth, Sai guided him to their shared bedroom and watched as the boy climbed into his bed and all but buried himself under the covers. A little wary of leaving the child when Hikaru looked like a shattered doll, Sai resolved that the blond-banged boy needed a moment alone to think this through and get over the shock.

_Perhaps a nap would be best_ , Sai thought. Although if Hikaru tried to pretend that the whole adoption hadn't happened, Sai would disillusion him of that quickly. It would be unhealthy for Hikaru to ignore the significant change this would present in both their lives and Sai would not allow him to keep up the act, even if it did seem easier in the short-term.

He was the adult here. Sai had to look at the long-term, especially in regards to Hikaru. The boy was too young to really consider his future and his prior living standards hardly helped in fostering such a sense. There would have been too much daily struggle with survival that planning years ahead would likely be a foreign concept to Hikaru.

Sai entered the kitchen, catching sight of Ogata washing his hands in the kitchen sink. A glance near the entryway found the spot void of Hikaru's vomit, meaning the bespectacled man had kindly cleaned up the mess.

The ninth-dan looked over at him, "How is he?"

"Taking a nap, hopefully," Sai answered wearily. He took a seat at the table, fatigue and hunger both coming down on him at once as his body finally surrendered to exhaustion. Staying up all night panicking over his charge had been as terrible as it was the first time, and Sai wondered if he should be getting used to having his pulse race as he thought up one disastrous scenario after another concerning his precious student.

"Did you tell him?" Ogata asked, taking the seat next to him. The smell of smoke clung stubbornly to him, combined with the scent of dishwashing soap. It was almost pleasant, in a way, tugging Sai into a more comfortable mood.

"I did," Sai answered softly. "His reaction...wasn't exactly what I had expected."

If what Hikaru had could be called a reaction. A quiet assent wasn't exactly what Sai had envisioned, but this entire day seemed dedicated to shattering his every expectation. It was barely even noon and Sai wanted to curl up in a ball on his own bed and sleep the day away.

"I'll make dinner. You need to sleep," Ogata ordered.

"You didn't sleep last night either," Sai remembered, guilt coloring his tone. Ogata hadn't left his side for almost the entire time of Hikaru's absence, leaving for only four hours to drive around Shinjuku and the neighborhood to see if he could spot Hikaru. Sai had stayed at his apartment in case the boy came back.

"I've gone longer with no sleep than this," Ogata scoffed, waving off the concern. "This is nothing compared to high school."

_What exactly were you like as a teenager!_ Sai wondered in alarm.

"You'll need to be in top form soon. The kid might be quiet _now_ but he won't stay that way," Ogata continued. "It's gonna be hell for a long time, Sai. You'll need to pray to the gods for patience, and right now, you need to _rest_."

Sai practically slumped over at the table, losing all of his former grace. It was a strangely comforting sight to Ogata; Sai became a real, normal person struggling under his own problems and stress. He wondered what those fools at the Go Institute who tittered over Sai's absurd focus on Go would say if they could see him now: a normal man with more to his life than Go.

"I think he needs to be alone," was Sai's muffled observation.

Ogata snorted, "Then sleep on the couch. God knows it's big enough for your skinny ass."

Sai didn't deign that with a response. Ogata sighed, "I'll keep an eye out for the brat. Just get some sleep, Sai." If the Meijin was going to designate all of his time and concern to the kid, then the least Ogata could do was keep an equal eye on Sai himself.

Sai didn't move. Ogata was just about to resign himself to dragging the stubborn man to the couch by his hair, but the slight trembling of slender shoulders halted his next reprimand. In the quiet, he could finally make it out.

Sai was crying.

It wasn't an unusual circumstance, not by any stretch. Ogata privately thought that Sai cried enough in a year to run a hydroelectric power plant successfully. He may have been perfectly poised as he cruised through the Go Institute and his matches, but put him in a normal setting with people he was comfortable with and watch the waterworks happen.

What made Ogata stare was that even the very _sound_ was different. It wasn't some slight injury or harsh teasing that moved Sai to tears, but something so soul-deep that even muffled, it sounded like a heart breaking. And it was quiet and unseen, hidden by Sai's long curtain of hair and muffled by his arms.

Ogata nearly reached out but stopped just a few scant millimeters away. He knew there was nothing he could do to comfort Sai. This was something the man had to face on his own, a responsibility he undertook the moment he'd thought of Shindou Hikaru as more than just a student.

_Family isn't easy,_ Ogata mused. _But you already knew that._

The bespectacled man stood and turned around to enter the kitchen. Lunch didn't seem like a bad idea.

* * *

Hikaru had slept through lunch but woke up some time in the late afternoon. Ogata, having forced lunch down Sai's throat earlier in the day and then pushing him on to the couch for a much-deserved nap, was currently in the process of preparing dinner when the bleach-banged boy stumbled down the hall. Hikaru entered the living room slowly, green eyes catching on Sai's sleeping figure lying curled up on the couch. The child froze and just _stared_ , looking - to Ogata's frazzled senses - a bit like a stunned lemming.

"Eat a snack, kid," Ogata stated, quiet enough as to not rouse the Meijin. Hikaru was startled out of his thoughts at the man's order, green eyes leaping over to fix on the ninth-dan as he calmly worked at cutting the green onion. "Dinner isn't going to happen for at least another hour."

Hikaru didn't respond. Ogata could see the reason for Sai's abundance of concern; there was something very lost in the boy's gaze as it idled around the kitchen, as if he were wary of focusing too long on Ogata himself. It was a haunted look that Ogata was used to seeing on the faces of people far older than himself, not on the visage of someone who hadn't even hit puberty properly yet. Perhaps more alarming was that Hikaru wasn't even bothering to hide it; the boy had a tendency to smother his own thoughts and expressions under a carelessly-friendly face he maintained for his (former?) profession but he wasn't even bothering to pull it on now.

Ogata wondered if this was a good sign. On one hand, Hikaru didn't seem to be hiding - but on the other, his reaction was remarkably quiet. No explosions of temper, no outright denying of Sai's new parental role in his life.

He wasn't outwardly _accepting_ it either.

Hikaru shuffled past Ogata, opening the fridge and staring aimlessly into its depths. He pulled out a cup of yogurt after what felt like an agonizingly long time to the bespectacled man, getting a spoon and taking a seat at the dining table. For the next several minutes, the only sound in the apartment was the dicing of vegetables.

"He's an idiot."

Ogata stated it quietly but with no reservation. From the tone of voice, it was almost as if he was commenting on the weather. Hikaru's eyes remained drilling into the table, spoon balanced precariously on the top of his empty yogurt cup. Ogata didn't look up from finely dicing the bamboo shoots, although there was no question he was directing this conversation at the silent boy seated at the table.

"He can't really talk to other people," Ogata continued on. "He gets too excited over the small things. He can't cook to save himself. He cries too much. He doesn't understand other people that well."

Ogata threw all of his cut vegetables into the pot to boil. He'd decided on something light for dinner tonight; he doubted the boy could stomach anything substantial with how sensitive the stress made his stomach.

"But he still wanted you. He wanted you more than anything," Ogata finished.

Even the former Meijin, Kouyo, had been able to tell something was off with Sai's game. (Sai still won, of course, but his divided attention was painfully obvious to anyone who played him regularly.) While Sai had been busy drawing up the custody forms and preparing himself for his confrontation with Shindou Mitsuko, his mind had been scattered between the scenarios. He hadn't even paid much attention to his learning games. There was a life to Sai outside of the goban now. Not the one Ogata had pretty much forced on him via dragging Sai to places he would otherwise have never gone to if left to his own devices.

It was... _relieving_ , to see that there were things more important to Sai than just Go. That he was capable of more emotions, of investing himself into people rather than just objects. Ogata would never have thought Sai was capable of this level of commitment to another person before, especially with how estranged he acted with his own family and how polite he was with those who considered themselves his friends.

Ogata prayed to every deity he didn't believe in that this would work out.

* * *

Ogata had stayed over. Hikaru hadn't really registered the idea, at least not until he wandered out of Sai's bedroom around midnight to find the man sprawled over the couch in the living room. Sai had woken up long enough to eat dinner and take a shower, staring fixedly at Hikaru as the boy remained seated at the table well after his own meal, but said nothing. He'd went to his own bed an hour previous, Hikaru trotting along after him under Ogata's discerning eyes.

Only after Sai's breathing finally evened out into deep slumber did Hikaru bother to creep out of bed. He hadn't grabbed anything but his wallet (and even that was because he'd managed to catch sight of it on top of his desk as he passed it) as he walked out. He'd frozen in the living room, but when even Ogata appeared to be fast asleep, Hikaru snuck by him and pulled on his shoes. Still dressed in the clothes he'd left Amekura's place in, he looked rather unkempt as he silently left the apartment. It said a lot about the two older men's exhaustion that they couldn't hear his footsteps and the door close as Hikaru fled the apartment into the night.

Hikaru ran as soon as he'd stepped down from the last step of Sai's apartment complex. He wasn't thinking quite clearly; his mind was a jumbled, panicked mess that only seemed to become more incoherent the longer he dwelled on his own circumstances.

Sai knew what Hikaru had been doing now.

Sai had _adopted_ him.

" _He wanted you more than anything."_

Everything hurt. His gut was twisted into such a shape that he couldn't feel nausea, just the burning sensation as if his heart was trying to set itself aflame. He thought he wanted to cry but the tears wouldn't come, thought he'd like to scream but no sound left his mouth.

Hikaru wanted to run back to his mother's apartment and ask her why she'd given him up. He wanted set her on fire and watch her burn. He never wanted to see her face again. He wanted to throw out his cellphone with all of the Gate numbers. He wanted to call Masaki and ask for another client. He wanted money. He wanted to go back to Sai's place and climb into his bed and think about nothing at all.

Hikaru wanted _control_.

Nothing was in his control anymore. It was all in the hands of another person now. His custody had been decided without him, without even a mention to him until after the fact. The lifestyle he had been growing used to was now crumbling into a bitter memory that Hikaru wasn't ready for it to become.

" _Itsuka-_!"

Hikaru hadn't intended to stop. He wasn't even sure he had heard it, too lost in his own turbulent thoughts that it could have just been his imagination getting the better of him. The hand that grabbed his wrist and practically whipped him into the brick wall was definitely real, however; the ache in his shoulders were testament to the fact.

Chikara was panting, one hand with perfectly-manicured nails digging crescent-shaped marks into his wrist. His curly black hair was windswept, an unusual sight for the boy who would have rather flunked out of physical education than get dirty. His dark eyes were wide as they took in Hikaru's miserable expression but there was an undercurrent of expectation there that Hikaru did not understand.

"What are you- why are you here?" Chikara finally managed out.

Hikaru stared at him, unblinking and hollow. "Why not?"

A strangled expression came across Chikara's pretty features. He looked like he was choking back a tantrum, surprisingly, but the expression died when he glanced to the side and the older boy relaxed. Hikaru knew why a moment later when Aian came ambling up with a cold expression. "What the _fuck_ are you doing here?" the gangster-like boy asked, sounding more confused than angry.

Hikaru couldn't understand why his presence was suddenly a problem for his two friends. "Why can't I be?" Hikaru snapped back, this sudden attitude regarding his presence infuriating him out of his turbulent thoughts and into action. "What the fuck is wrong with you two?"

"Masaki said you'd been bought," Chikara hurriedly explained, letting the younger boy go with a worried twist to his lips.

Aian snorted, "Although we know that's a load of shit. Last time we checked, buying a Vanilla doesn't mean the blond asshole coming back looking like he had another throwdown with the yakuza." The former redhead's eyes swept over Hikaru. "We heard the real story from Tomorou. He said some famous Go player got you."

" _Tomorou_ knows about _Sai?"_ Hikaru gasped out, definitely feeling nauseous now.

Aian nodded, practically pushing Chikara out of the way as he drew closer to the blond-banged boy. "Which leads us back to the original issue of _why you're here?_ Because if Tomorou was to be believed, this Go player of your's adopted you as his _son_." This was all said in a tone that was almost accusing, although what crime Hikaru had committed by showing up in his usual area was unknown. Nevertheless, Aian looked nearly enraged by his very presence.

"He fought _Masaki_ for you," Aian intoned in the ensuing silence between the three. "If he'd just wanted you for sex, he would have bought you. Itsuka - _why the fuck aren't you home?"_

Hikaru stared up at the older boy, green eyes wide. Slowly, he began to shake his head, the day's events crashing back on his head.

Sai had met his mom.

Sai had met Masaki.

Sai had _beat Masaki._

It was impossible. No one won against Masaki; not the scary teen with his connections. Hikaru had seen people die, had watched children disappear. No one could be saved - Hikaru had seen too much of the world to believe in anything of the sort.

"Itsuka?" Chikara asked gently, eyes wide as Hikaru began to tremble.

This was all a joke. Some giant, horrible joke that fate was playing on him. It wanted him to build up his hopes, to dare to believe - only to come crashing back down on him. Hikaru had seen it happen often enough.

Why was everything being decided for him? Hikaru didn't know anything, not a single thing - and these were all important events concerning him! He hadn't known anything, he hadn't been able to _do_ anything.

"I _can't_ -" Hikaru choked on the words.

Aian grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him forward. He let go, turned around and with nothing but a curt voice said, "Follow me."

He lead them deeper into Shinjuku.

Hikaru wasn't really seeing anything until they walked into a very familiar motel. The same pudgy man sat behind the counter, eyeing the three of them with the sort of distaste built up over time and exposure. He and Chikara waited off to the side as Aian went over to the man, sneering at him for what felt like an eternity before he came back with a room key in hand.

The room was also on the first floor, although it wasn't the same room Hikaru had first stepped into as he became Itsuka. Aian opened the door and ushered the other two boys inside, giving Chikara a hard look that Hikaru missed. The curly haired teen took up position near the window, arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed the interior with a discontent look on his face. Aian was checking the locks over before he turned around to eye the youngest boy there.

Hikaru hadn't got further than five steps in before Aian moved forward. He grabbed Hikaru painfully by the arm, dragging him forward before bodily throwing him onto the bed. Hikaru only made a small grunt of surprise as he landed on the lumpy surface, more confused than terrified - but that was quickly rectified when Aian loomed over him with no expression at all on his face.

"You started here," Aian said boredly.

He said nothing else as he climbed atop the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, Hikaru could see Chikara cringe further into the corner, dark eyes alert despite how pained he looked by what was going on before him. Hikaru didn't understand until Aian forcefully pulled his jeans off of him.

_Then_ the panic set in.

"What are you doing, Aian!" Hikaru screeched, reaching down to pull them back on.

Aian didn't say anything, instead backhanding Hikaru right on his cheek. Hikaru stilled in complete shock, more surprised by the action than terrified of it. Pain stung across his face but it was forgotten when Aian started working at the buttons on Hikaru's shirt. Hikaru tried to fend off his hands, his mind screaming at him to do something - _why was this even happening? -_ but Aian smacked his hands away without a word and made short work of his shirt.

" _Aian-_ "

"Shut up, Itsuka."

Then Aian started unbuckling his own pants. Hikaru wanted to scream but it got caught in his throat, so instead he had one hand trying to pull himself further away as frightened green eyes looked towards their counterpart leaned near the window. Chikara met his gaze but the other youth merely stared back, practically holding himself as if that was his only restraint.

Aian's hands reached for his underpants.

This was really going to happen. Aian didn't joke like this, wouldn't do something like this for a laugh. But why? Was he angry that Hikaru had been taken away? Was he upset by the boy's attitude?

" _Aian_ , _please-_ " Hikaru forced out from a dry throat.

Aian ignored him. Nails dug into his sides as he was flipped over. Hikaru tried to get a foothold on the mattress to see if he could move up further, but one of Aian's hands came down on his shoulder and pinned him to the bed. The sheets were kicked off by the former redhead and when Hikaru attempted to twist around to somehow dislodge him, Aian dug more painfully into his shoulder and then grabbed a fistful of hair.

"Aian - _get off!"_ Hikaru struggled, voice no louder than a whisper.

"Hm?" Aian leaned closer to his ear, forcing Hikaru to turn his head to the side. "I can't really hear you. Now shut up, _darling_ , I need to concentrate or no doctor in the world is gonna be able to sew you back up."

Hikaru was reminded of Yamaguchi for one blindingly horrible moment. Very few of his clients called him with affectations, and the ones that did always made his skin crawl. Matched with the pure cruelty with which Aian was holding him, the coarseness of the sheets seemingly grated on his skin as he was pinned against it.

He could fully see Chikara now; the other boy was turned away, eyes shut tight as if to deny the entire scene before him.

_"Aian!"_ Hikaru begged, frozen beneath the older boy. The redhead was gripping his hip so tightly that bruises would be left, Hikaru could practically feel them forming.

Aian trailed one hand over his back, ignoring the hitch in the younger boy's breath. "What's wrong? Didn't you come back here to make some more money?"

Hikaru's breathing was uneven and he was unable to respond. Aian leaned down, one hand pushing down on Hikaru's head to hold him down as Aian bit down between the younger boy's shoulder blades hard enough to draw a small weeping of blood. Hikaru _screamed_ , Chikara startling so badly at the sound that he knocked his elbow against the window.

Aian let go, lips pulled into a devil's smile stained with blood.

"Did you forget? I think you've been spending too much time with your little Go player if this sort of things bugs you," Aian mused, openly mocking. He reached up with his hand and dug his fingernails into the bite wound, eliciting a sob that Hikaru was in no state to halt.

Hikaru was sobbing hysterically. It was too soon after Amekura and too much to add to on top of what he had learned today. That it was being done by Aian was inconsequential in this moment; it could have been a friend or a complete stranger, it wouldn't have mattered because Hikaru would break down regardless.

His world had narrowed again.

He could shut up and let it happen, like he'd had to do so many times before. It happened often enough and it would end quicker that way. What was there to panic about? It wasn't as if this was new territory for him - it was the same old song and dance, one he'd been waltzing repeatedly for over half a year now.

But _he didn't want to._

There was a choice now. There was something - _someone_ \- out there who had explicitly forbidden this from continuing. Someone cared enough to be infuriated about it when Hikaru did not have enough energy to care about it himself. There was someone that thought he was worth so much more, that this was reprehensible and that Hikaru was so much better than what he was being degraded into.

Some of his blood dribbled onto the sheets. Red against white - it was a painfully familiar sight. The sheets were coarse and bleached white, unlike the soft quality of his dark blue sheets and comforter in Sai's home. He'd never bled on that bed before, never been held against it by someone else.

"No," Hikaru said. It was quiet and Aian didn't heed it. Hikaru said it again, louder and more assertive. "No. _No no no no NO!"_

Aian, fingertips red with blood and crouched over the child below him, paused. His eyes were sharp, still in control despite the renewed struggle of his victim.

"Stop! _Let me go!"_ Hikaru continued. It was a frenzied yell, his voice hoarse with emotion. He managed to twist onto his side, tears running down his face. Everything about him was a mess; snot and tears, blood painted over his body like art, hair in complete disarray. Fury and disgust warred on his face, green eyes searching for a way out as he screamed and begged for Aian to release him.

Aian smiled. _Finally_.

Aian pulled away. His unbuckled jeans hung low on his hips, his shirt tossed carelessly across the room. (God knows he'd tried to buy enough time; he almost thought he'd actually have to carry out with the task to get the younger boy to this state.) He moved to the edge of the bed, rummaging through his pockets for a cigarette.

Itsuka rose slower, more confused by this sudden turn in attitude and a thousand times more wary. He picked up the scattered articles of his clothing and pulled them on hurriedly, as if they would act as a shield against any attack. Chikara remained silent and imposing in the corner, eyes now fixated out the window.

Aian didn't care to know what the curly-haired boy was thinking. He knew the older male enough to guess and what he understood of him, Aian did not like. Chikara was not weak, not by any stretch - but he was _dangerous_ in a self-destructive way.

"I don't understand you." Hikaru's voice was small. Aian didn't think he'd heard anything more child-like.

Aian chuckled a bitter laugh. He lit up a cigarette, taking a long drag and letting the nicotine soothe his nerves. If Masaki ever came to know what had happened this night, he'd be dead within hours.

But Aian was tired of being afraid.

"Go home, you stupid brat," Aian said without turning around. "There's nothing here for you anymore."

That statement hung in the air for several solid minutes. No one broke the silence, too afraid of making this shamble of a goodbye any more real. For that's what it was - the closest to a goodbye and a blessing that they would give each other.

Hikaru needed that extra push. He was not able to let go of the Gate so easily. It had been the only means for his own survival for quite awhile and he'd formed a dependency on its function that could not be erased from just one direction and by just one person.

So Aian did what he could to help. The Gate might be a place he could not leave yet but that did not mean he had to see kids resign themselves to the same station. He wasn't silly like Mimi, cruel like Masaki, or twisted like Tomorou; Aian looked at the children in the Gate and didn't see fellow victims but kids that he could help should the opportunity arise. He was distinct for that reason, even if few could tell.

Itsuka- no, _Hikaru_ had options nows. A foolishly kind man had taken him in for completely benign reasons, and Aian wouldn't stand on the side and watch the kid blow his own chances. They were friends in most respects, but comrades as well. If Hikaru needed that extra push, no matter how much he hurt from it, Aian would do it.

The door clicked shut and blocked the sound of Hikaru's fading footsteps. In the quiet left behind him, Aian studied the faint embers of his cigarette.

"Why?" Chikara asked.

Tetsuo snorted, "Don't you ever get tired of picking on kids?"

* * *

Hikaru opened the door to Sai's apartment at nearly four in the morning.

He was silent as he entered. It didn't matter, because Ogata pulled him further in smelling like he'd bathed in cigarette smoke and he sounded like he was barely restraining himself from yelling. Sai looked horrible; hair once again pulled back into some mockery of a ponytail, eyebags painfully pronounced as he stared hollowly at the boy.

Hikaru vaulted out of Ogata's grasp and lunged at the long-haired man, wrapping thin arms around a slender waist. Sai's intake of breath was the only sign of his shock, although the action caused Ogata to stop talking immediately. Hikaru had practically buried his face into Sai's chest, hold almost suffocatingly tight.

"If you ever leave me," Hikaru murmured. _"I'll kill you."_

Sai didn't hesitate for even a moment before he hugged him back.

* * *

It was getting busier lately. Kawakami didn't think he could be any happier; the usual surly, dead quality to his go salon was replaced with a vibrant energy that he could feel in the marrow of his own bones. He was looking the better for it, if his wife's comments were any indication. Even she looked more upbeat, small frown now vacating her features as a small smile turned her lips whenever she looked out over their clientele.

" _Blind_ go?"

The dry tone of the question caused those nearby to chuckle. It was a surprising reaction from the gaggle of geezers that made up the majority. They seemed equally amused and enthralled by the recent addition to _Heart of Stone_ , and Kawakami understood their reaction wholeheartedly.

Shindou Hikaru was undoubtedly a brat. His manners veered from perfectly cordial to unrepentantly rude. He matched verbal barbs as easily as he did smiles, and Kawakami didn't think he'd ever seen someone go from neutrally respectful to fiery passion as quickly as the child could.

But there were plenty of things about Shindou Hikaru that surprised Kawakami. The personality - so at odds with the Meijin - was one. The boy's skills were another; he hadn't started out very strong. He'd lost against at least half of the clientele in the beginning, which had made them eye the child even harder, as if trying to find the reason the genius Fujiwara could have chosen such a child that lacked talent.

Two weeks later, Hikaru could defeat more than two-thirds of the regulars. One month from his first introduction, the child won the majority of his games against Hisoka, the strongest of their regulars. Hikaru wasn't Touya Akira-level strong - he wasn't even close - and at this point, he likely couldn't even make insei, but Kawakami could see the potential.

And what he saw was _terrifying_.

Shindou could recreate games he'd played days ago, particularly if he'd made mistakes that had really gutted his chances of winning. His plays were not perfect, but some moves were so crafty that they'd catch even the most wizened of the regulars off-guard. Then there was the hint of Fujiwara's hand, ghosted throughout some of Shindou's moves the way Touya Kouyo's would be inherited in his son Akira's plays.

Shindou Hikaru took to learning _very well._

"It's a good exercise in memory," Shinoda-san explained. "And it will make it more challenging for you. You'll be bored playing Ishizuka-san otherwise."

Ishizuka bristled, "Like you're any better, you hag!"

"Watch your language!" Kawakami's wife snapped out.

Shindou had the meanest smile on now, "Yeah, can't you see a kid is present? Shame on you."

When Iwata-san stepped forward and offered himself up to play, citing being stronger than Ishizuka, the group of regulars descended into a vehement argument to decide who the better opponent for Hikaru would be. The boy himself remained quiet but rolled his eyes at the display, obediently turning around as requested as he waited for the geezers to sort themselves out. Kawakami just barely restrained himself from chuckling.

"Lively place," came the cheerful observation.

Kawakami startled at the familiar voice, turning and giving a polite nod to the man who had entered. Although genial, Kawakami could not quite disguise his discomfort. This was a natural reaction though - no one ever quite felt comfortable around Kawai.

"It's been awhile," Kawakami greeted.

Kawai snickered, "But your face says 'not long enough!' I think _bocchama_ has been rubbing off on you."

Kawakami carefully kept his neutral expression. There was no need to rile Kawai; Kawakami was easily replaced. Kawai knew his power.

"I've been wanting to meet the kid for awhile," Kawai said wistfully as he stepped past the man and deposited the salon fee on the counter. The bills stared back at Kawakami almost mockingly.

"Fujiwara Meijin won't like this," Kawakami said quietly as Kawai passed.

Kawai didn't deign that with anything more than a galling smirk as he sauntered up to the empty chair across the goban from Shindou. The squabbling regulars quieted as he took his place, none quite willing to challenge him for it despite their disgruntled expressions.

"You guys finally choose someone?" Shindou asked without looking back.

Kawai opened both goke.

" _Onegaishimasu."_

* * *

Kawai was leaned against the exterior of the shopping complex he'd just left, irrepressible smirk on his lips as he held his cellphone up to his ear. Once the ringing ceased and the person on the other line picked up, Kawai couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of his throat.

"The kid's cute. I think you'll like him," he began.

A faint murmur was the reply, unintelligible to anyone but Kawai.

"Hm? Oh, I played a Go game with him - _of course_ he plays Go, do you really think _bocchama_ would adopt him if he didn't?" Kawai pointed out teasingly. " _Blind go_ , if you believe it. Kid wasn't even looking at the board when he slaughtered me."

A pause as he listened to the reply. A small frown flitted across his lips. "I play better than most of those geezers, I'll have you know."

Another pause. "I'm not that old! Those guys are practically fossils!"

He quieted again, affronted look fading into passive tolerance. He stepped more into the building's shadows when the automatic sliding doors opened, letting out a blond-banged boy onto the sidewalk. The child wasn't paying the sides any mind, pulling out his cellphone to check. A few clicks later and the child froze, expression momentarily freezing before it was replaced with a mask of casual cheer. The boy shoved the cellphone back into his pocket, turning in the direction of Sai's apartment and starting his trek home.

Kawai didn't imagine the frailty he saw in those green eyes.

* * *

_From: Unknown_

_Here's your going-away gift, Itsuka~!_

_Kisses,_

_Tomorou_

_**(Picture Attachment)** _

_**(Yamaguchi's flat eyes stared up at nothing, neck visibly twisted with the bone of his cervical vertebrae protruding from bloodied flesh. It was framed with a garish border of sparkling butterflies and light violet bows.)** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : You know, this chapter was actually going to be twice as long according to my chapter outline... But that was too much, so I pushed it into the next chapter where I think it actually fits a whole lot better.
> 
> And oh my god, you guys - do you know what's coming up next? Do you? Do you? TOUYA AKIRA IS COMING UP, BABY.
> 
> _Note 1)_ **The Gate** : The Gate kids are all kinds of messed up. This goes equally for Hikaru's friends (Aian, Chikara, Rizumu) and acquaintances (Tomorou, Masaki).
> 
> On another note, you do not alleviate the trauma of a rape victim by playing at being rapist. Kaga did what he did because 1) as Aian, he's all kinds of mentally broken by himself and 2) he honestly believed that because 'Itsuka' started in that motel, 'Itsuka' had to end there as well. The repercussions of what Kaga did well be seen somewhat later (in its variety of forms).
> 
> _Note 2)_ **Rizumu** : (smile) 
> 
> _Note 3)_ **Fujisaki Akari** : Ooh, you guys really like her, huh? She'll make sense later, I promise!
> 
> So next chapter, there's gonna be a whole lot of _(Akira!)_ Go, and school _(and Akira!)_ , and Kaio _(with Akira!)_ , and some righteous anger on Sai's part. :) Look forward to it _(and AKIRA)!_
> 
> _Questions, comments, concrit? If so, please..._
> 
> **Kindly drop a review~!**


	10. Quiet Needlework

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : Sorry for the wait, guys, had to revise the outline again. And then Tsutsui and Kishimoto totally hijacked this chapter, I swear to God.
> 
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> 
> **Thank you I LOVE YOU GUYS for the reviews! I get bashful, I laugh, I get teary-eyed - you guys have all of my love!**
> 
>  
> 
> ****Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.**
> 
>  
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> ****Pairings** : Ditto last chapter.**
> 
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> ****Warnings** : Positive direction~!**

 

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_Quiet Needlework_

* * *

Hikaru eyed the rumpled form of the man standing by the stove, torn between amusement and exasperation. While Ogata definitely had his undying gratitude for saving him from the horrors of runny omelettes and burnt toast, there was just something a bit depressing about all of this effort having no immediate success. The bespectacled man only grunted out a greeting to the boy, stirring what looked to be porridge with sweet potato mixed in.

"Do you ever go home?" Hikaru finally asked, taking a seat at the table.

Ogata glanced back at him, a challenging smirk on his lips. "Want me to leave you to Sai's breakfast, then?"

Hikaru blanched. Ogata made a self-satisfied nod and turned back to his cooking. He had just begun to spoon out the food into bowls as Sai emerged from his bedroom, yawning lightly. He looked unerringly professional in his charcoal gray suit, a sky blue tie hanging from his neck. The Meijin looked pleasantly surprised that Ogata had taken the initiative to make them breakfast, which distracted him from noticing the way the ninth-dan's eyes lingered on his ensemble appreciatively.

Hikaru didn't, however, and pulled his face into a mock-gagging expression when Ogata finally tore his eyes away from the long-haired man.

Sai looked up at the light smacking sound, catching Ogata storming back to the kitchen counter to retrieve his own bowl of porridge and Hikaru smiling unrepentantly, lightly rubbing the back of his head.

"Aren't you getting ready too early?" Ogata asked, taking a seat at the table. "You're not meeting this brat's teacher until 5:30 p.m., right?"

Sai murmured a cheerful "Thank you for the food!" before grasping his spoon, looking over at Ogata with an energetic smile. Hikaru had echoed the older man and was already starting to eat, busily trying to distract himself.

"I have to run a few errands first. By the time I will be done, I have to go to the school," Sai answered. He didn't explain these so-called 'errands' but Ogata would bet it involved more paperwork courtesy of the lawyer and whatever Kawai was getting up to now that the adoption had been finalized and Shindou Mitsuko's watch had been called off.

Hikaru tapped the edge of his bowl with his spoon, a small frown on his face. "I still say I could just turn in the forms to Ishino-sensei myself. You don't really have to go all the way down to my school."

Sai shook his head, shooting his charge a look that amounted to a nonverbal ' _we've already gone over this and it will be done my way'_. "A conference with your new guardian is mandatory, especially with your name change, Hikaru."

Hikaru flinched a little at the response, although the reasons for why were too numerous and were issues Sai would tackle at a later date. Instead he allowed Hikaru to eat quickly and quietly, the boy throwing out a goodbye as he grabbed his backpack off the couch. The kid was out the door and on the way to school in record time.

"Mandatory, is it?" Ogata echoed with a mocking tone.

Sai shrugged, a guilty smile on his lips. "Well, maybe not mandatory, but it is strongly recommended. And in any case," Here his smile dropped, the look in his eyes matching the one he had when he started his counterattack on the goban. "I'm interested in meeting the teacher who apparently thinks chronic ditching and strange bruises aren't worth reporting."

Ogata nodded, lips twisting into a sharp smirk as he picked up his and Sai's empty dishes. "Sounds fun," he acknowledged. "Try not to get blood on your clothes this time."

* * *

Black coffee hit his tongue with a hot tang, bitter and fragrant enough to wake his dulled senses from their late-afternoon lethargy. Getting through the school-day was not too demanding but the Go club ran him a bit more ragged than he was prepared for that day. If Kishimoto Kaoru didn't think himself above it, he would have thought something disdainful of Hidaka's attitude that day; she'd terrified the freshmen members into studying kifu without debate as the older years took control of the boards for practice matches. Aoi had then spent the latter half of club practice having another mental breakdown courtesy of upcoming exams and losing his last game against Hidaka again.

Kishimoto could feel his blood pressure rising at the thought of leaving his Go club in the hands of someone like Iijima Ryou. He wondered how Yun-sensei handled such situations as the title of captain changed year to year; Kishimoto was torn between looking forward to graduating from the madness of Kaio or dreading it.

Daylight was blazing into the burnt orange colors of a winter sunset, but Kishimoto knew from experience that it was pointless to head home this early. He had been a latchkey kid the moment he'd graduated into elementary school and knew his dinner would be ready-made to eat, occupying a shelf in the fridge for his return to an empty home. There was no need to rush back when there was no one to look forward to and for all of his consternation with his clubmates, that didn't mean he was exactly looking forward to solitude at the moment.

He took another swallow of his coffee, sharp eyes moving over the shops as he passed. If he recalled properly, there were maybe three Go salons in this general area. He'd only been to one but it was in the opposite direction of where he was headed, which left the other two. They were a similar distance away compared to each other, but one was in a strip mall that at least had a decent heating system while the other was Yun-sensei's favorite haunt. As much as he respected his teacher, Kishimoto wasn't keen on seeing that severe expression again.

_Heart of Stone_  it is, then.

The salon was on the second story of shopping complex, a tidy looking place that was rather understated. Entering through the sliding doors, he nodded in greeting to the man behind the counter. The owner of the establishment, by the looks of it; he took Kishimoto's cash with a low thanks and Kaio's first board continued in.

The early evening clientele seemed to be the of the usual fanfare: older ladies and gentlemen, some of whom were smoking as they discussed and played games.

Surprisingly, there were two other boys about his own age; they had sequestered away at one of the corner boards, the younger one with ridiculous blond bangs motioning to something on the goban between them as he explained animately. The other boy looked vaguely familiar but Kishimoto couldn't place from where; he was the older of the pair, with giant frames for glasses and a rather nondescript hairstyle.

"Oi, kiddo! Another friend of your's showed up!"

Kishimoto was startled by the loud call, even moreso as the old man motioned to him. The blond-banged boy looked up with a befuddled expression, one that only deepened when he caught sight of Kishimoto standing awkwardly before the rows of gobans. The other patrons had also looked up at the interjection, most curious and some grinning. Apparently the younger boy was rather popular here.

"I don't know him," the younger boy said. "Tsutsui-senpai?"

_Ah, Tsutsui_ , Kishimoto finally recognized. He'd met the other boy at the Kantou Boys Go Club tournament; his team was not much to talk of but the president had enough skill to pique Yun-sensei's interest. It was unfortunate he was stranded at such an awful school like Haze but that was life for you. Kishimoto had played a game with the boy only once (and won, of course - that was Kaio pride on the line there) and talked with him whenever they'd bump into each other at Go functions, but there was only so much socializing Kishimoto could put up with.

"Kishimoto-kun!" Tsutsui greeted with a small smile. "I didn't know you played at Heart of Stone."

Kishimoto moved forward so that their conversation could be more personalized, eyes flicking onto the younger boy who was eyeing him with an unreadable look. "It's my first time here," Kishimoto admitted freely, taking the empty seat next to Tsutsui.

"Hikaru-kun," Tsutsui turned to his companion. "This is Kishimoto-kun; he's captain of Kaio Junior High's Go club and its first board."

The younger boy turned green eyes to Kishimoto, wide smile on his lips as he nodded in greeting. "Nice to meet you, Kishimoto-san!" he chirped. "I'm Sh- Fujiwara. You can call me Hikaru, though."

Kishimoto nodded, silently deciding to not call the other boy so familiarly. This Fujiwara seemed like an airhead and pumped off of too much caffeine; if anything, he reminded Kishimoto of some of his girl classmates who would always titter at him as he passed them in the halls. Something about the younger boy just felt wrong but he couldn't place what - perhaps the smile and appraising look in those green eyes.

Tsutsui was frowning but remained silent. His eyes went back to Kishimoto and lingered on his peer contemplatively but he turned back to Hikaru, getting the kid's attention and resuming talk over their game. Kishimoto listened with half-an-ear, more interested in either playing a game with Tsutsui himself or one of the older patrons. His coffee was getting cold now, too; hopefully he could get something hot to drink in this place.

"...you should have invaded here right away..."

Kishimoto almost spit out his cold coffee, managing to swallow it before doing something so undignified. It was noticeable enough to warrant a pause in the commentary, though, as both boys were looking at him again. Kishimoto didn't appreciate the plainly amused expression on the younger boy's face but he held back his outburst and turned his attention to the board.

Tsutsui was black, Fujiwara white - and the latter had definitely won.

"Are you in Tsutsui-kun's club?" Kishimoto asked, or more like demanded.

Tsutsui made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded either exasperated or amused. Fujiwara only looked vaguely offended. "No," the child replied dryly. "We didn't exactly work out."

Tsutsui snorted, ignoring Fujiwara's startled frown. For his part, Kishimoto's expression was thoughtful; if the kid could beat Tsutsui, he couldn't be too bad of a player.

"Why dont you and Hikaru play a game, Kishimoto-kun?" Tsutsui suggested, hopefully forestalling an explanation of how and why Hikaru wasn't a hit at the Haze Go club. That came with far too many preconceptions and Kishimoto had always struck him as a 'first chance is your only chance' kind of guy.

Kishimoto's intense expression shifted into something a little more relaxed, which Tsutsui took as a sign of encouragement and quickly started cleaning the board. Hikaru was shooting him a look from across the board that Kishimoto couldn't decipher but Tsutsui just shrugged and switched spots with Kaio's Go club captain.

"Handicap?" Kishimoto asked, although the question was posed more for Tsutsui than his actual opponent.

"No," came the identical answers.

Kishimoto didn't look too sure but the younger boy across from him was already starting nigiri. Giving in, he called out for 'even' and was rewarded with the white stones.

* * *

Ishino Tarou glanced over the files on his desk, more out of reflex than any real interest. Shindou Hikaru's - or formerly Shindou Hikaru, now Fujiwara - picture stared back up at him, the photograph for his school ID looking rather cheerful in contrast to how Ishino usually found the boy in his class. Shindou- Fujiwara,  _Fujiwara_  he had to remember - didn't pay much attention to lessons and could be positively dreadful when students had to get into groups for assignments.

Ishino didn't know how Hikaru had managed it but the boy could make any of his classmates uncomfortable. The boy must be going through some awkward teenage phase because he usually just ignored the girls and had even made Hiyoshi Saori cry once because he had pointed out how ugly her bob-cut made her look. The boys complained he veered between too many extremes, going from friendly to ice-cold without reason. His reputation as a delinquent, not helped out at all by his frequent absences and the occasional appearance of bruises, put all of his classmates on edge but did manage to cut down any threat of bullying. No one wanted to start a fight with someone who showed such complete disregard for authority.

And Hikaru  _did_  have an issue with authority. He skipped lessons whenever personally addressed by a teacher (Ishino included) and fell asleep in class without care. His apologies were insincere and tempered with a small grin, a challenging look that had forced Ishino to bite down on the urge to get physically violent with someone half his size. It was surely a lack of discipline on his mother's end; she had Ishino's pity once he'd learned she was a single mother, but there was only so much he was willing to forgive with Hikaru disrupting class time and time again.

The information he'd received from the school secretary had been both surprising and not. He'd met Shindou Mitsuko only once and her bedraggled appearance definitely hadn't left a favorable impression, but that Hikaru had to be taken out of her hands... He'd almost thought she had finally gotten remarried (likely to another loser) but the secretary had told him custodial rights had been moved to a single man named Fujiwara Sai. The change was permanent, Chitose-san had said; apparently Fujiwara had stressed Hikaru's name change and had requested he be notified immediately should Shindou Mitsuko ever appear on Haze school grounds.

Whatever Hikaru had gotten up to that his guardian had changed, Ishino only hoped Fujiwara proved to be a strict disciplinarian. It would take a steady, unwavering hand to get someone like the errant boy into shape.

Two polite knocks sounded at the door to his classroom. He checked his wristwatch - 5:30, right on the dot. Fujiwara got extra points for punctuality.

The door slid open, admitting a well-dressed man into the room. A  _young_  well-dressed man; he couldn't be any older than Ishino's son, a 29-year-old pharmacist. The man closed the door with a soft click, features impassive as his eyes landed on the teacher.

"Fujiwara-san?" Ishino asked curiously, rising from his seat to greet the man. "You're Shindou Hikaru-kun's new guardian?"

Something like discontent moved over Fujiwara's eyes. Ishino inwardly winced. Unbelievable - the meeting hadn't even officially started and he'd already messed up. If he wasn't so used to those tiger mothers who came in screaming about their own children, his mask of professionalism would have broke.

"I am," Fujiwara nodded. His voice was even, tone polite; his eyes were ice cold. "Nice to meet you, Ishino-sensei. I thought I did tell the secretary about the name change, however...?"

"Oh yes, I apologize!" Ishino pasted a smile on. "I suppose I'm so used to- well, I'll remember it now. Please, take a seat."

"Thank you." It didn't sound very thankful but Fujiwara took the chair across from him anyway.

Ishino glanced over the suit; it was tailored, he discerned, and the watch clasped around Fujiwara's wrist was a goddamn  _rolex_. Ishino had met all sorts of parents in his long tenure as a teacher but none even came close to this man. It was obvious that Fujiwara had been born into and raised in money. His polite bearing and cordial attitude didn't hint at the spoiled brats and other twenty-somethings that tended to squander their parents' fortune; rather, Fujiwara seemed the type to take over the parent company and be a capable head. How and why such a man had opted to adopt Shindou Hikaru was an even greater mystery.

Ishino decided the best way to handle this man was to get straight down to business. During parent-teacher conferences, Ishino would have to adjust his approaches accordingly: some parents preferred idle chatter or pertinent questions before broaching the issues of their children, while others just wanted to get straight to the heart of the matter without any preamble. Fujiwara seemed to fall in the latter category, if the sharp look he was giving Hikaru's files scattered about Ishino's desk were any indication.

"Parent-teacher conferences usually aren't until the last trimester, but with the recent changes, an early one wouldn't be amiss," Ishino began, pulling out a transcript of Hikaru's grades and handing it over to his new guardian.

"Hikaru-kun's grades aren't a real concern although he could do better," Ishino began. Hikaru was remarkably keen when he wanted to be and as of late, his math scores had increased. The teacher wondered if Fujiwara's new role in the boy's life had anything to do with it.

"However, he does ditch classes alarmingly frequently and he's," Ishino paused, a little wary at the tensing of Fujiwara's posture. Was the man one of those delusional, over-protective parents? How could someone who didn't look old enough to be Hikaru's father have gotten attached so easily? "He's known to get into some spots of trouble. More recently, he's been excluded from the school's Go club for bothering the other members."

Ishino was startled to see blank shock smooth over Fujiwara's features. If anything, he'd pegged Hikaru as the type to complain to whoever would lend an ear. Perhaps the boy hadn't wanted to share his more troublesome behavior with his new guardian.

The shock melted away, replaced by the usual mask of cold indifference. Ishino took this as encouragement to continue, "His behavior also tends to conflict with his classmates. He seems to have a handle on his temper, it's just that he is far too blunt and doesn't take into account others' feelings."

"Oh?" Fujiwara queried, his first verbal interjection.

Ishino squashed down on the urge to frown. It was hard to tell from Fujiwara's icy disposition, but it seemed there were several things the man did not approve of with Ishino's assessment of his new charge.

"Based off your call to our office, is it correct that you alone hold custody over Hikaru-kun?" Fujiwara nodded. Ishino took up the boy's lone file, filled with the most basic information and the new additions to the emergency contacts. "From experience with Shindou Mitsuko-san, I understand being the single parent of a child can be overwhelming..."

Ishino trailed off, hoping the young man across from him caught the implications. The teacher wanted to let the other male know he wasn't expecting smooth-sailing in regards to Hikaru and his behavior; he wasn't even sure the boy was capable of acting in line. Perhaps if Fujiwara had been older, with more experience under his belt than whatever cushy life had given him the idea he could adopt whoever he wanted - maybe then Ishino could expect more out of both Hikaru and the man. But he knew first-hand how difficult children were to rear and was positive he would never have been able to do it himself without his wife - how would some young, pretty fool know how to raise a trouble child?

Fujiwara met his eyes evenly. There was something unforgivable in his gaze, a cold feeling of being scrutinized, as if his weaknesses were being found and exploited in a way he just couldn't catch.

"Shindou Mitsuko and I are very different people," Fujiwara began. His voice was clipped but not with rage; it was the tone of someone referring to another person as if they were a lower-being. Ishino could suddenly understand why Shindou's mother had given him up - going head-to-head with Fujiwara Sai seemed inherently unpleasant.

"Shindou-san's influence was detrimental to Hikaru's well-being," Fujiwara continued, his tone polite. Ishino couldn't shake the feeling he was being criticized. "Ditching will no longer be a problem. From what I've gathered, Hikaru is already starting to make friends now that he doesn't have to suffer under his mother's...care. He's very fond of the Go club captain, Tsutsui."

Ishino shifted uncomfortably. After Shimura-sensei had aproached him for his opinion on Shindou Hikaru, he'd gotten distantly interested in the affair. Apparently it had been resolved with Hikaru's forced exclusion but culminated in Tsutsui Kimihiro's quitting - a move that astounded both the faculty and the students who knew the straight-laced boy. No one had quite figured out why Tsutsui had given up so much for a delinquent underclassman but the one time his homeroom teacher had approached him concerning the issue, Tsutsui had argued vehemently and stormed out.

"It is interesting, though."

Fujiwara shifted, crossing his legs and assuming a more relaxed posture. Nothing about him seemed very comforting to Ishino, however; the way the younger male had casually began sounded more like a trap than anything else.

"Interesting?" Ishino managed out of a dry throat.

"Wouldn't most people who commonly interact with children notice discrepancies?" Fujiwara asked mildly. "Bruises, surly behavior, frequent absences... You even mentioned an unfavorable interaction with Shindou Mitsuko. It never seemed strange to you, sensei?"

Ishino frowned, stiffening in his seat. Fujiwara didn't sound as if he were accusing him of anything, but there was definitely an undercurrent of something almost like disappointment - but disappointment was not as visceral, not as cutting as the way Fujiwara Sai looked at him.

"Parents are the true building-blocks for their child's education," Ishino tried to defer, an attempt to shift blame from the inattention of teachers and onto the culprits.

Fujiwara's look was plainly unimpressed. He drummed his fingers along his arm in a move that was damn near patronizing. "Surely there's more? He's only lived with me a short time but I've noticed quite a few things already. Skittishness, automatic distrust of adult figures..."

Violet turned into flints of dark amethyst, something furious bubbling behind the mask of calm expression Fujiwara wore with professional ease. Ishino could feel his skin crawl and swallowed dryly on reflex.

"A strange reaction to  _touch_ ," Fujiwara bit out.

A pause.

"But what you've done is enough," the man allowed graciously, almost mocking had it not been for his tone. He wore a smile full of teeth that gleamed with insincerity. Ishino felt nausea rise in his stomach.

Fujiwara's head cocked to the side, in a move clearly designed to play up his youth. It was vastly unsettling - Ishino was sure he hadn't mentioned anything disquieting he found about Fujiwara's age openly. How clearly had Fujiwara read him?

"Thank you for your time, Ishino-sensei," Fujiwara said, rising from his seat. Ishino hurriedly rose to meet him. "Please continue as you have been in regards to Hikaru. You don't need to worry; I will take care of the things that Shindou Mitsuko was unable to."

He bowed, ignoring Ishino's returned gesture as he turned to leave. He paused at the door, consideration on his face before he looked back over his shoulder at the older man. For one horrifying moment, Fujiwara Sai looked like nothing more than a mannequin poised in his doorway - or a monster ready to lunge.

His smile had persisted, in all its glaring inconsistency. "Although I suppose worrying about Hikaru was a task left to the children, rather than the adults," Fujiwara noted softly. He slipped out the door before Ishino had fully processed the discourteous statement.

Sinking back into his chair, Ishino rested his head in his hands and heaved a heavy sigh.

He  _hated_  parent-teacher conferences.

* * *

Hikaru tried to remember to take things in stride. This was an important point to remember; he knew he would not get very far if he panicked over every little thing. It wouldn't do to be stressed out whenever an unexpected situation cropped up, especially as unexpected situations seemed to be making up the majority of his life right now. Still…

Tsutsui was doing a poor job of hiding his amusement. The former Go club captain looked unequivocally amused at the pair before him, ignoring the occasional stare of their classmates as other students exited through the front gate of Haze. It was only Tuesday - couldn't unexpected occurrences happen later in the week? Or at least after Wednesday?

It was bad enough Ishino-sensei seemed to have taken an invested interest in Hikaru's academics, calling him for short meetings after classes to slip him some pamphlets for tutoring or cram school. Even being called 'Fujiwara' was startling every time he heard it, although he'd earned nothing more than a few curious stares from the braver parts of his classroom.

"Ran-kun," Hikaru sighed, trying to hide his bemusement.

Shanhai's eyebrow ticked up in a clear expression of consternation. " _Lan_ ," he corrected primly.

Hikaru thought about asking the Chinese boy how, exactly, he had found Hikaru's school when he still couldn't even navigate the subway system adequately enough. Then again, both Aian and Mimi (and, chillingly, even Masaki) knew where Hikaru went to school. Shanhai may not know how to use the transportation systems but he definitely knew how to use  _people_.

"You don't come back," Shanhai explained, hooking their arms together. Now Tsutsui's eyebrows hitched up, something resembling understanding flashing behind those spectacles before being replaced by a tolerant look of fondness. It was understandable - Shanhai was just acting the same exact way Hikaru initially had. A lack of respect for personal space was just the norm for those of the Gate.

"I want to play Go," Shanhai said. "So I find you."

"Oh, you play Go too?" Tsutsui interjected excitedly.

Shanhai nodded happily, starting to tug Hikaru forward as if to lead him to the nearest Go salon. Hikaru bet all of his money that the older boy didn't even know where the nearest one was. Tsutsui fell into step with them, huge grin on his face.

"Tsutsui-senpai, this is Lan," Hikaru introduced, careful of his pronunciation. Shanhai squeezed his arm in a gesture of support. "Lan-kun, this is Tsutsui. He used to be captain of our school Go club."

Shanhai looked momentarily confused - likely the word 'club' had thrown him off - but Tsutsui was already smiling disarmingly at the boy attached to Hikaru. Tsutsui carried himself with a certain air of amiability, soft and gentle in a way that was surprisingly sincere. It put both Hikaru and Shanhai at ease, although the latter merely nodded in greeting rather shyly.

Tsutsui didn't ask anything personal, keeping the conversation on Go as he subtly lead the two other males in the direction of the Heart of Stone. Hikaru would get in free and if he needed to and Tsutsui didn't mind covering the Chinese boy's fee.

His steps felt much lighter as they neared the destination and the smile on his face only grew at the boisterous greeting of the salon owner and some of the other Regulars. Quite a few were eyeing Lan eagerly, causing the slight teen to stiffen in reaction, doubtlessly misinterpreting their interest for something less-than-benign. They were always eager when another boy came in with Hikaru; between Kishimoto and Tsutsui, Hikaru seemed to be amassing a social network built around young enthusiastic Go players.

Hikaru murmured something into Shanhai's ear that had his friend relaxing minutely. Everyone else took the interaction in stride, never daring to mention the quirks in the blond-banged boy and clearly extending the courtesy to the Chinese boy on his arm. Tsutsui had wondered at the respect for privacy - was it out of politeness or ignorance? He would never raise the question himself, but occasionally he would catch the salon owner's eyes and something like understanding flashed between them whenever Hikaru did something odd.

"Do you want to play a game with me?" Tsutsui asked, turning his disarming smile back onto Lan. The Chinese boy stared at him, flustered for a moment. Hikaru took the pitiless route and left them to it, pulled into an argument between some of the older folks who were once again insisting on blind Go. ("Let's play simultaneous blind Go games! Three in total!" "Are you crazy? I can't do that yet!" "Be willing to take chances, brat!" "Don't call me a brat, you geezer!") Hikaru had an interesting relationship with the clientele of Heart of Stone.

Shanhai nodded, "That is good."

The kid really did have the most awkward grasp of Japanese. Tsutsui desperately hoped that if Lan's situation really was as bad as Hikaru's, he would be getting out of it soon. He looked depressed and sick in a way that even Hikaru hadn't been able to match.

The game between them had been the closest even match Tsutsui had had in awhile. Both Kishimoto and Hikaru had already exceeded past his own skills while the patrons of the Go salon veered from Fujisaki-level to near-Hikaru. Lan made a decent opponent, although his fuseki was a bit rough and it took a moment for either boy to realize they were playing with two different sets of rules. (Lan's embarrassed explanation of learning Go from his grandmother when he was younger had been relayed through stilted Japanese and Tsutsui had taken the special care to not tease him.) They had opted to play another game, this time using Chinese Go rules - Tsutsui was more familiar with them than Lan was with the Japanese rules - which made the second game go much smoother.

They discussed as best they could which, Tsutsui could readily admit, was still way more fun and informative than any discussion he'd had with any of his former Go club members. Lan helped clean the board of stones and timidly accepted a free mug of tea from a gentle Kawakami.

The two turned to see what Hikaru had gotten up to in the past hour or so. Their expressions, both comically identical in surprise, would have made their blond-banged friend laugh had he been paying them any attention. Instead he was sitting in front of three boards playing simultaneous games with the a few of the regulars. Despite the jagged intensity in those green eyes, it was clear the games were informal: Hikaru was muttering a litany of curses audibly enough that the man on the far left couldn't help responding in kind, although with a touch of affectionate amusement; the lady in the middle was scowling at her board, chain-smoking as if she ran on the ash of cigarettes; the last man was staring at his own board in bafflement, one hand still immersed in the goke.

"When did you last play Hikaru?" Tsutsui asked softly.

Lan's fingers were pulling at the hem of his sweater, eyes anxious as they rested on the former Gate worker, "A few months ago. He...was not that good."

Tsutsui could imagine. "He's much better now," he acknowledged.

A wry smile twisted the Chinese boy's lips, "Yes, he is."

Tsutsui had the distinct impression it was not Go to which Lan was referring.

The confused man on the far right finally conceded defeat, the lady following only five minutes after. Those watching the session began to dissect the games even as Hikaru wrapped up his final one on the left, his parade of insults against his opponent lessening to a more mild degree just before the man also admitted defeat. It wasn't too surprising to Tsutsui; Hikaru had taken to either multiple games or blind Go recently when playing the salon patrons. He won the majority of them now, although occasionally he'd lose to someone of a higher caliber like Kishimoto or Kawai.

Hikaru leaned his chair back so that it teetered on its two back legs, head bent back to give them a keen view of green eyes. Kawakami absently kicked the boy's chair back into position as he moved past, eliciting a startled yelp that he tactfully did not acknowledge.

"Are you guys done?" Hikaru asked, deciding to rise after giving the salon owner a dirty look (which was also subsequently ignored).

Tsutsui nodded, "I do have to leave early today, though."

He almost explained that it was his mother's birthday but the words were stuck in his throat, unwilling to divulge what should have been casual information between friends. Family was a topic Tsutsui tried not to breach with Hikaru, no matter how curious he got; he knew firsthand the damage of family skeletons.

Hikaru looked at Lan, "You wanna stay here or go eat dinner?"

Lan pouted. Hikaru rolled his eyes. "Fine, dinner will be my treat," he grumbled.

The Chinese boy agreed easily after that. Hikaru turned back to go help clean up the boards ("No, I'm not discussing it, I'm going to dinner - oh shut up, you can discuss it just fine with yourselves!"), thereby missing the thoughtful look on Lan's face as he regarded the three boards the blond-banged boy hovered over.

"You aren't going to play him?" Tsutsui asked, surprised.

Lan shrugged, "I don't need to anymore."

Hikaru bid an acidic farewell to the clientele as the three boys exited. They split once again at the train station, Lan practically merging himself into Hikaru's side as they headed to Shibuya. The two were quiet during the entire trip, neither exactly feeling the need to fill the air with meaningless drivel. Sitting together quietly could mean so much more between them than any conversation.

Hikaru wasn't exactly clear on where they should eat, but fortunately Shanhai made that decision and nearly took his arm off when he spotted a dimsum restaurant. Hikaru conceded with minimal hesitation even though he had been eyeing that tonkatsu ramen place.

Shanhai ate like he'd starved the whole day through. Hikaru hardly knew the other boy's diet - he'd never see him eat more than candy bars or chips when he was at the Gate - but it was common practice for their customers to take them out for meals. Even with the language barrier, Hikaru was fairly certain Shanhai's did the same.

Garlic, minced pork, steamed green tea dumplings… The tastes mingled in his mouth rather unpleasantly as they finally left a little less than an hour later. (The bill had been cheaper than Hikaru had expected and he wodnered if it had anything to do with the conversation Shanhai had had with their server, as he couldn't understand a word of it.) Shanhai was no longer linking their arms together but stood obtrusively close, a distance few minded in the busy streets at this hour.

"Did you still want to play a game?" Hikaru asked. Heart of Stone was still open, as were most other Go salons. He could probably even take the older boy back to Sai's place if he needed to.

Shanhai moved closer, a sad smile on his lips, "It's almost nine."

Hikaru was confused for a moment. Then his heart stuttered into his throat and his world view tilted dangerously on its imaginary axis.

It was late. The business hour was approaching.

"I heard," Shanhai began softly. "They talk of you. You were- taken."

Hopefully that was a language issue. Shanhai was likely referring to Sai's adoption of Hikaru or whatever form of it that the other Gate kids had misconstrued. Hikaru really didn't want to think about the wild rumors his leaving might have fired up.

"That's why I had to find you. You are not coming back."

Hikaru nodded after a moment. "I...I'm not doing that anymore," he admitted.

Shanhai smiled, "Good. I'm glad."

Hikaru had not expected such a kind response. It was the first time any of his friends had made any sort of comment on his new turn in life: Tsutsui still had no idea about what was going on, Aian was...Aian, Chikara and Rizumu had remained decidedly silent, and even Mimi had not contacted him yet.

Shanhai continued, "The night still owns me. When I am finally out - then we should play a game. Yes?"

Hikaru grinned - equal parts strained and exuberant. His heart was tied in knots while at the same time brimming with affection. "That sounds like a plan to me," he agreed with a laugh.

* * *

"You have a match next Thursday, right?" Inoue-sensei asked with a tone that belied he already knew the answer. Touya Akira made an affirmative noise anyway, an expression of tacit obedience coloring his features as he waited patiently before his teacher's desk. The older man nodded and pulled out several papers from his desk drawer, handing it to his student with a gentle smile. "These are the assignments you'll miss but you'll need to stay late on Saturday to do the make-up quiz."

Akira nodded again in understanding, taking the papers with quiet gratitude. Once Inoue-sensei had given him the dismissal, the boy wasted no time exiting the teachers' office, closing the door softly behind him. With a sigh, his expression relaxed into its usual casual aloofness.

He didn't hate school but there were certainly other places he'd rather be at the moment. Like at the Go Institute advancing his skills, or at home studying kifu, or even at his father's Go salon playing teaching games with the customers. In a startling display of commonality, Akira could actually empathize with his peers' dislike of homework in favor of more personal activities.

"Touya-kun."

Akira startled, knocking a shoulder into the wall. Holding his aggrieved body part, he turned an accusative look on the girl who was smirking at him from behind, blond hair falling into mischevious brown eyes. Hidaka Yuri was an upperclassman and one of the few schoolmates who would talk to Akira while he was present at school, given her involvement in the Go club and lack of shyness regarding social interaction.

"Are you free?" Hidaa asked, although she didn't wait for his response. She merely grabbed him by the wrist and forcibly dragged him down the hall and towards the Go club room. It was only years of being subjected to proper etiquette lessons that stopped Akira from slapping her hand away or letting out an indignant squawk, but it was a just-barely thing.

"Good thing you're back," she began with a rather intense look to her eyes. "You really need to stop by the clubroom sometimes, Mister Go Pro. Haven't you ever heard of charity work? Be more involved in your school!"

If she had looked back, she would have seen his vastly unimpressed look. "The last time I went, I made Kuno-senpai cry when he realized I was playing shidougo with him," he pointed out.

Hidaka snorted, "I keep telling you he just had an off-day. His girlfriend had just broken up with him back then." She paused. "By the way, you might want to steer clear of him today anyway. I heard him and Ryuuzaki were having trouble in paradise."

Akira would have been happy to steer clear of the club as a whole but wisely kept this opinion to himself. Hidaka seemed to have gotten the impression at some point that her position as an upperclassman in Kaio meant she could drag the school's resident Go prodigy into club exercises despite his rejection.

She pulled him into the clubroom with a small cry of a greeting, earning about three dozen stares from the assorted members clambered inside. Given that this was Kaio, the Go club had been granted full and exclusive use of an empty classroom. Three rows of five gobans each filled up the majority, although the bookcases to the western wall were lined with kifu and other Go study materials. Empty kifu papers were kept in a stack on top of the desk in the far corner, although they were only used to fill out games Yun-sensei found explicitly interesting or just to train some of the new members into recording games correctly.

The eastern wall looked very different from the last time Akira had come by. A handful of members were gathered by it and conversing, eyeing the kifu posted to the wall with professional interest. It seemed almost mismatched, given the garish decorations: giant red hearts and smaller pink ones were the background to each displayed match, forming a valentine-reminiscent rainbow. There also seemed to be a liberal amount of glitter splashed onto each heart, as well as the words printed over the entire ensemble:  _Doki-Doki Evolution_!

Akira stared at it  _hard_. "What is that?" finally managed to crawl out of his mouth.

Hidaka's amused look never wavered, "What I wanted you to see. Kishimoto regularly plays games against this guy and posts them up here. You have to look at this- I wouldn't have believed it myself if it hadn't been Kishimoto saying so-"

Akira was tugged along behind her as they drew closer. The club members standing in front of it quickly moved out of the way, the room falling silent as they waited to listen in on Akira's opinion.

Akira, unfortunately, was getting distracted by other things. "Kishimoto-senpai made all of this?" he asked weakly, gesturing to the... _splendor_  of the decorations.

Hidaka leveled a look of patronization at him Akira hadn't seen since Ogata had caught him throwing Go stones into the aquarium at his house. "Kishimoto's always been into crack displays like these," she waved off. A few members standing nearby nodded, looks ranging from amused to resigned. "You know he gets the best grades in Home Ec?"

Akira didn't know that and didn't think he'd ever have to. Instead of replying to that tidbit of unessential knowledge, he re-focused on the games plastered on the wall. Higher-level club games, it seemed; whoever Kishimoto was playing was easily keeping par with the former insei. Interestingly, the first two games were Kishimoto's while the last two were his opponent's victories. The development of both players was more noteworthy to Akira's seasoned eyes: Kishimoto's evolution from the first game to the last was like a snail's pace compared to his opponent.

"Did he let Kishimoto-senpai win these ones?" Akira asked, peering at the first two games.

Hidaka made sound of negation, "According to Kishimoto, the guy just got that much better. Yun-sensei still hasn't got over it."

Akira looked back at her, eyebrows raised. While the Korean man was definitely passionate about the game he taught, and while both players were decent, Akira didn't think it was all that impressive. Compared to the pro games Akira was now in, these games weren't even that much.

Hidaka took in his expression, the smirk splitting her lips absolutely feral. "You didn't notice the dates? These games - they all took place within one month. One every week."

Akira's attention whipped back to the games, eyes more piercing than the games had previously warranted. The timeframe made all the difference: the escalation in ability of Kishimoto's opponent was startling. Kishimoto had the higher level of skill in the first game, the gap drew near even for the intermediate two, and the latter had the opponent edging past Kishimoto's level to one higher. If the first two games had been lost on purpose, as Akira had first thought, or that they took place over a greater course of time, then the rate would not have been so shocking. As it was, though…

"Who is it?" Akira asked, motioning vaguely to the games.

Hidaka shrugged, a pleased expression on her face for reasons Akira could not discern. "Kishimoto refuses to say. All I was able to get from Glasses is that the guy is your age. I don't know if he's in a club, if he's an insei, or if he even goes to Kaio."

Which was quite an impressive feat for the Go club captain to achieve, what with sharks like Hidaka and Yun-sensei around. The rest of the club had started up excited chatter over Akira's reaction, seemingly reassured that they weren't the only ones stunned by what their club captain had discovered. For the most part, the club members tended to bow to Akira's whims - which made visits to his school's club highly-uncomfortable. If they had treated him just the same as any other classmate, he probably wouldn't have been so averse to visiting them. As it was, only Kishimoto and Hidaka ever seemed to treat him with any sort of casual familiarity.

"Ah - Touya-kun?"

The club hushed as Kishimoto entered, followed by the imposing figure of their coach. Yun-sensei's eyes were moving between Akira and the  _Doki-Doki Evolution_! setup, consternation and amusement pulling his features into an inscrutable expression. Kishimoto only had eyes for Akira, though, moving forward after sparing Hidaka an annoyed look.

"Glad to have your fix?" Hidaka teased, eyeing the cup of black coffee the club captain was holding.

Kishimoto didn't deign that with a response. His attention back on Akira, he nodded in the direction of the kifu lined on the wall. "Did you get a good look, Touya-kun?"

Akira nodded, turning back to address the games. "Is Hidaka-senpai right? All of this in just one month?"

Kishimoto's lips twisted up. "Yes. If I hadn't been playing him myself face-to-face, I would have thought it was all just a joke."

"You could share some of that experience with others," Yun-sensei noted aloud, sounding vaguely annoyed. Professionalism wouldn't allow the teacher to show his emotions so openly but it was clear in the disapproving look of his eyes.

Kishimoto just shook his head, "I already told you, Yun-sensei. He'll come out when he wants to, whether it's through the Go tournament, the insei program, or-" His eyes slid over to pin on Akira. "-even professional Go."

Akira turned a burning gaze on to the senior, "I want to meet him."

Kishimoto turned away, wandering over to the empty kifu paper. "No," he replied curtly. He grabbed a sheet and pulled out a pen, jotting something down before folding it to fit in the palm of his hand, sliding it into his pocket. "If you're lucky, you may bump into him. But then again..."

Kishimoto looked back over at him, amusement clearly filtering in through the cold demeanor. Only Kishimoto could bely an aloof expression with condescension, Akira thought spitefully.

"You don't really venture out from your comfort zone, do you, Touya-kun?" Kishimoto mused.

Yun-sensei's expression turned pensive. Hidaka just looked inordinately amused by their interaction, arms crossed as she waited for the atmosphere to lighten up on its own accord. The rest of the club members had turned away and were busily trying to distract themselves from the conversation, unwilling to watch their captain so openly bait Kaio's Go professional.

Akira was about to retort but Kishimoto cut him off with a light smack to the forehead. Eyes wide, Akira stared up at the older boy, looking clearly offended. Hidaka burst out laughing, Yun-sensei only releasing a small huff of annoyance before he moved over to some first years clustered around a goban.

Kishimoto withdrew his hand, smirking smugly at the kifu paper stuck to the first-dan's forehead. Akira peeled it off, an irritated expression flickering over his features as he distractedly shoved the paper into his pockets.

"Thank you for dropping by," Kishimoto dismissed imperially. "We're having a practice tournament next week. Feel free to drop by and teach us something."

Hidaka continued to chuckle.

Akira excused himself with as gruff as an answer his manners allowed, leaving the room with light but hurried steps. He needed to get back to his classroom to pick up his backpack anyway, then he could go home and study some games and not think about how annoying Kishimoto could be.

_I should have gone to a school that doesn't have a Go club_ , Akira thought in a rare moment of pettiness. He felt embarrassed at the internal juvenile slip only a few seconds later.

He didn't remember the slip of kifu paper until later that night when he set about emptying his pockets in preparation for showering. Unfolding it in mild annoyance, he read the quick line with eyes that phased into disbelieving.

_Sunday, noon. Meet me at the Heart of Stone go salon_.

* * *

Hikaru didn't know much about the abortion clinics the girls of the Gate would sometimes have to utilize. They were different from the underground medical offices Masaki would force his charges into but no less dreary; just another backdrop without a name full of people with jaded eyes. The office was small but neat, save for the plastic potted plant in the corner collecting a light sheen of dust. The waiting room was merely five plastic chairs standing like soldiers at attention against the wall, the harsh glare of the light reflected back off of the bright red plastic cushions. A low coffee table before them held a modest assortment of outdated magazines, not all of which were in Japanese, and the radio stationed behind the secretary's desk was garbled with static.

Satomi checked in first as Hikaru took a tentative seat on the unwelcome chairs. She joined him soon enough, smile affixed onto her lips that was lined with both anxiety and resentment. Hikaru wondered at the implications.

"I should be called in soon," she explained candidly. "They just have to clean up after the girl before me."

Hikaru wanted to ask her if it hurt but that seemed like such a stupid question - of course it hurt. It probably hurt on many levels, most of which Hikaru would not be able to understand.

"Are you nervous?" he asked instead. He wondered if that was a stupid question too. If she wasn't, why would she have asked for his company in the first place?

Mimi shrugged, "It's actually my second time." Her tone did not change from idle amusement.

Hikaru nodded, for lack of a better response.

She was called in five minutes later. Hikaru waited silently, green eyes scraping over anything in the room in a desperate bid of interest. The secretary had only given him a vaguely contemptuous look before resuming the click-clacking of her fingers upon the computer keyboard. The radio went silent for a minute before a shrill screech had it jumpstarting back into the latest pop song. The lyrics were decidedly peppy.

It could have been 15 minutes, it could have been an hour - Hikaru was so bored he couldn't tell. Satomi finally shuffled out of the room, eyes downcast in an unsettling display of honesty. Hikaru would have rose to meet her in the center but instead she had wrapped one manicured-hand around his wrist and forced him still as she resumed her seat next to him. The secretary glanced over with a disapproving look but said nothing.

"Mimi?" He asked quietly.

Satomi smiled at him, then leaned her head gently against his shoulder. She fumbled with one hand through her purse, pulling out a plastic bag full of pictures and handed it to him.

Hikaru paused, before opening it slowly. It seemed Mimi wasn't ready to leave yet anyway, and from the steady hold she had on his arm, he wasn't leaving either.

He shuffled through the pictures, recognizing all of them. One of him, Aian, and Chikara during the summer. Another of him and Rizumu asleep at the Gate. Hikaru and Aian, grinning like idiots with their newly-dyed hair. Aoi, Mimi, and Aian making assorted rude gestures. Chikara and Hikaru laughing. Mimi had taken the special care to label and date each one.

Two pictures left. One was of the whole group that Hikaru was closest to: Aian and Chikara wrapped around a flustered Hikaru, Rizumu off to the side with a bored gaze, Shanhai sitting on the floor looking confused, Mimi the only one in a proper pose. This was taken just a week before Sai had officially adopted him.

The second was just of Mimi and Hikaru, from when he'd first started working. His bangs weren't even dyed yet. He looked tired and his smile was obviously forced, but Mimi had practically put him in a headlock with a playful smirk. He flipped it over.

No label, no date. Just a simple sentence scrawled in Mimi's small and neat handwriting.

_Please don't come back._

Hikaru stared at the statement. He could feel the girl's breath brush against his shoulder with every exhale, their physical contact suddenly coming to the forefront of his mind as his eyes lingered on the photograph. Acutely aware of their close proximity, the intimacy of which was understandable to Hikaru now, the younger boy began to feel uncomfortable. Mimi had no similar reservations, one small hand wrapped around his wrist as she leaned against him.

"I used to feel guilty, you know?" Mimi started softly. She didn't move from her position to look at him, seemingly afraid of matching his stare and addressing him directly. "You're the only one I've ever brought to Masaki. I thought I was helping you back then. It hadn't occurred to me at the time that there was a difference between us."

Hikaru shifted uneasily under her weight - both the physical and the words. "Difference?" he echoed.

" _Choice_." Her tone belied something cherished, something miserable; it spilled from her lips like the name of an item she coveted above all else and despised just as much.

"I knew him back in school," Mimi said. "I knew what he was involved with, what he was capable of - I knew all of that and I still went to Masaki. You didn't know one damn thing and I practically gift-wrapped you for him."

Hikaru frowned. It was not out of confusion but from discontent. "I knew enough," he interjected. He hadn't been naive, walking into the crowded streets of Shinjuku that night. It wasn't as if Masaki hadn't explained the basic gist of what he was going to be involved in when Hikaru had first called him.

"No," Mimi denied. "If it had been enough, you would never have agreed to it. You and I both know there is more to this than money for sex."

Because you lose yourself somewhere along the way. You lose chances and choices, the ability to decide taken from you the moment money exchanged hands. There was something inherently miserable about it that drained the ability for sympathy, for compassion, for an understanding that there might be something more out there for you. Hikaru had felt that keenly enough, had once dreaded a time that tomorrow would come simply because what it would mean for him. Some tried to escape, as Aoi had with drugs; others lied to themselves and tried to put themselves into a position they could tolerate, as both Mimi and Chikara had done; while some just  _existed_  - like Rizumu and Shanhai.

"I never blamed you," Hikaru stated truthfully.

He could feel the upward curve of her lips as she replied, "You should have."

Hikaru's phone began to ring. Mimi sat back up, covering whatever expression had been on her face with her usual mask of ditzy cheerfulness. She sent a particularly blinding smile at the ruffled secretary that was more teeth than kindness, which kept the older woman's irritated expression directed at her computer monitor.

Hikaru dug out his phone from his pocket, checking the caller ID. It was nothing more than an incoming text message from Tsutsui.

_From: Tsutsui Kimihirio_

_Are you free yet? When you are, you should drop by Heart of Stone! Kishimoto is back again and you need to save me! (;´Д`) He's arguing about the virtues of coffee over tea with the other customers and Kawakami is starting to get this look that say he's about 100% done with everyone._

Hikaru stared at the message for a long moment. True, the Kaio Go club captain was starting to become a disturbingly frequent regular of Heart of Stone - he even brought his own kifu papers to copy down their games together - but he hadn't realized it was bad enough that the normally-civil young man was beginning to be pulled into the Go salon's offbeat rhythm.

Mimi nudged him, a silent indication that they should start leaving. He nodded distractedly and put his phone back in his pocket, following the girl out of the office and barely hearing the secretary's formal but cutting farewell. They entered the pedestrian traffic at a leisurely pace, Mimi drawing him in the direction of the subway station.

"You have a new cellphone?" Mimi asked.

Hikaru shrugged, "S-  _He_  bought it for me. I don't think he liked I had my business contacts on my old phone."

Mimi's smile was sharper this time, more feral. "I can imagine why," she retorted good-naturedly. They descended the steps into the station in companionable silence, heading towards the platform which would lead them back to their general area. Hikaru didn't have the heart to tell her he took a different route now as Sai's apartment was further away from both his mom's apartment and his junior high school.

"What about our numbers?" Mimi finally asked. Her voice had gone soft again, lacking her usual aggression and enthusiasm. It reminded Hikaru of the defeated girl who had come out from the surgery room.

"I put them back in my phone book," Hikaru replied. "I was going to text you guys later to let you know I'd changed phone numbers."

The intercom rang out the departure times. They took their place before the line as their train began to pull in, the lights from the overarching lights flickering over their faces. Within the mass of people waiting in the underground, Hikaru mused he could probably just fade into the background without Mimi even noticing.

Mimi hummed thoughtfully, watching with feigned interest as people exited from the subway car. While still crowded, they had missed the hellish rush hour and didn't have to worry about being forcefully crammed into the train car at this time. Given how frail she felt at that moment, she didn't think she'd be able to handle it.

She held onto the younger boy and waited for the rest of the crowd to enter. Hikaru was crowding in behind her so she turned to fully embrace him this time. He froze completely within her grasp and she became aware of just how small her former neighbor was. A thin body met her own and she wondered how on earth he'd survived so long with nothing but ghosts to keep him together.

"Some people deserve to be thrown away, Hikaru," she murmured into his ear. "Forget about us. You've gone somewhere we can't follow."

She let him go, grasped his shoulders and gently pushed him back. Her head was bent forward, bangs shadowing her face from his sight. He didn't catch anything as she let him go and turned away, following the last person onto the train to take her back to the apartments Hikaru would never return to again.

As the train doors closed and the vehicle began to pull away, Hikaru wrapped his arms around himself. It seemed his new life was starting off with nothing more than a series of unsaid goodbyes.

* * *

Getting to the Heart of Stone had been easy, almost strangely so. It was fortunate that Akira was an early-riser and was able to catch Ogata's attention as the man walked out from his father's study; apparently the former Meijin and his student had been discussing one of Ogata's recent games for the morning. The bespectacled ninth-dan cited he had to leave early in order to get lunch and "save Sai from himself," whatever that was supposed to mean - Ogata had assured Akira that Sai was in perfect health and also "obscenely happy," though, so Akira assumed it was an inside joke.

Ogata had looked curiously over at Akira as the boy started to toe on his shoes. The boy usually spent Sundays at home if he didn't have professional Go entanglements, but his outfit was definitely not his usual business wear. Akira explained he was heading over to Heart of Stone to meet a friend, although then his mother came out of the kitchen looking far too excited and shoving money into his hands, saying she hoped he had a fun time and to maybe go eat dinner with his friends too.

Ogata offered to drive him, seeing as it was on his way. That had been said with a particularly devious leer that made Akira uncomfortable but his mother only patted him on the shoulder consolingly before pushing him out the door to follow after the older man.

Standing at the storefront of the shopping mall, alone and with Ogata's red sports car making its way further down the road, Akira was relieved to find Kishimoto standing with a hot cup of coffee in hand and leaned against the exterior with a bored look.

"You're early," Kishimoto greeted, taking a sip. He'd drained the cup in just over a minute and threw it away as he lead the younger boy up the steps. "That excited to meet him? He's good but he's nowhere near your level yet, you know."

Akira nodded even though Kishimoto couldn't see him. "Potential can be just as important as skill and experience," he explained quietly.

Kishimoto made a scoffing noise, mostly out of amusement. "Potential, huh? Kawakami-san said something similar."

The door slid open as they stepped up, a soft brush of cold, air-conditioned air blowing over them. It was smaller than his father's salon but just as clean, something warm and casual in the atmosphere as Kishimoto lead him to the counter to pay.

"Just remember, Touya-kun," Kishimoto murmured, falling back a step to keep even with Akira. "There are others just as interested in  _potential_  as you are."

Akira didn't get to ask for clarification, as the salon owner greeted them and then abruptly froze once his eyes caught on to the Touya heir. Kishimoto paid for both of them under Kawakami's unseeing eyes, an amused smile on his lips as he slipped past. Akira bowed slightly in greeting, knocking Kawakami back into awareness. The man fumbled out a greeting, a perplexed look marring his features as Akira trailed after Kishimoto.

"I swear to god, if you start another verbal brawl on the subject of drinks again I will make you swallow this damn goban."

Akira blinked at the sheer rudeness. The source of the- greeting? threat? was a boy that looked slightly younger than him, blond fringe kept clipped to the side by a couple star-shaped clips. He was reclined sideways in his chair, legs dangling over the armrest on one side and leaning back to have a better view of Kishimoto.

"Do you ever shop in the boy's section for clothes?" Kishimoto snipped back, uncharacteristically irritated.

The blond-banged boy held a hand in front of his mouth, fingers splayed apart as he mocked an affronted " _oh!"_

The bespectacled boy, sitting previously quiet in the seat across from the smaller boy, sighed and tapped the table. "And now we're done, yes? Yes. Good. Now shut up."

If Kishimoto hadn't half-blocked him from view, Akira would have been privy to seeing the esteemed Kaio Go club captain roll his eyes. Instead the senior stepped aside in order to fully present his tag-along, earning another wide-eyed look from the boy with the glasses and a curious smile from the blond-banged kid.

"He's a friend from school," Kishimoto introduced, one hand on Akira's shoulder. His eyes flickered between the other two boys but settled with a strange intensity on Spectacles. "Akira-kun, the older one is Tsutsui and the idiot is Hikaru-kun."

Tsutsui would have choked on his own tongue but the shock had stopped such an undignified display. It was only through sheer luck that Hikaru didn't look over at him, green eyes moving over the stiff features of the newly-presented 'Akira'.

"By chance, Akira-kun saw one of the games I recorded on the kifu between Hikaru-kun and I," Kishimoto lied through his teeth. "He wants to play a game."

Hikaru batted his eyes, alarmingly (to Tsutsui) in full-on customer service mode. "Oh, a present for me? How kind of you."

Kishimoto looked taken-aback by the response. Unsurprising - they had been lucky the older boy had started off cool and aloof. His friendlier attitude at this point while simultaneously introducing another child as if his presence were a gift had undoubtedly flipped some switches in the mess of Hikaru's emotions.

Tsutsui subtly moved the goke aside, but before it could tip over the side and hopefully startle Hikaru out of his attitude shift, a loud clatter of several plates crashing to the ground and shattering nearly sent the blond-banged boy toppling out of his chair. Kawakami made a sound of regret and apology, his wife coming out from behind the counter to help him clean up the shattered glass. Tsutsui was mildly impressed - the older man hadn't even glanced over in their direction.

Hikaru turned back, looking slightly more subdued. He re-adjusted his position, sitting up properly and avoiding direct eye contact with a befuddled Kishimoto.

Akira took this moment to step forward, "Nice to meet you. I'm-"

"Akira-kun, yes?" Tsutsui jumped up, smiling widely. The startled glance Hikaru shot him for his abrupt action was ignored. "Please - take a seat. I wanted to get something to drink, anyway."

"I do need more coffee," Kishimoto conceded. Akira then shot him a look bordering on patronizing.

Hikaru poked at his goke, moving on from uncomfortable to relaxed. "A game sounds good," he agreed.

Akira turned back to his new opponent, polite smile fixed on his lips that contrasted with the intensity in his eyes. He moved his goke back into position, uncapping the lid as Hikaru did the same to his own. Then he hesitated, eyes moving back over to Hikaru's face - the boy still hadn't met his eyes.

"Would you- I mean, for a handicap-" Akira started haltingly, unsure how to phrase it so he didn't offend.

"No handicap," Tsutsui and Kishimoto snapped simultaneously.

Hikaru rolled his eyes, throwing a sullen look over at the older boys. "Gee, thanks, Mom and Dad. Why don't you get your coffee already? Or are you scared to leave us two crazy kids alone?" he mocked dryly, waving one negligent hand over the goban.

"Just nigiri," Kishimoto sniffed. Tsutsui took his arm and began to lead his peer back to the counter with a sigh.

* * *

The look Ogata was giving him from across the table was not inspiring confidence, but that was fine - Sai was confident enough on his proposed venture for both of them. He'd already drained his tea however, so he had nothing to distract himself from his friend's gaze.

"Insei?" Ogata echoed. The word tasted like citrus on his tongue and clearly showed in his face.

"He's ready," Sai nodded. "I play him regularly and the games at the Go salon are starting to become too easy for him."

Ogata rose an eyebrow, "I saw the recreation of that last one."

"That was part of simultaneous games, Seiji. He's started playing four people at once. Sometimes he even plays blind Go against two people."

Ogata's expression filtered from dubious to mildly intrigued. "Does he win them?"

Sai nodded, smiling. "Most, save for some of the simultaneous blind Go games. If I hadn't been constantly crushing him in our games, he'd probably have an ego by now."

Ogata snorted. "If the brat has an ego, it won't be over  _Go_."

Sai felt amused at first, but that slowly turned into a disquieted expression at the implications of such a statement. Ogata's lips twitched downward but he didn't take back his comment, instead taking Sai's empty mug to put by the sink.

"Has he already picked the games he'll use to apply with?" Ogata asked.

Sai shook his head, "I haven't exactly broached the subject with him yet. Now that I know he doesn't have any formal connection with his school's Go club," That was definitely frustration colored with disdain on those last few words. "Hikaru probably won't have much reservations in entering the insei programs."

"Besides a crippling lack of self-esteem regarding his Go," Ogata pointed out waspishly. "It's a good thing he can cruise through your family's Go salon or he might just think he's no good at all."

_I hate how you say that,_  Sai thought with a frown. If it hadn't been so painfully true, Sai might have even found it amusing - that someone who was so arrogant in his dreamverse could become so humble when it came to reality was ironic. The reasons for why Hikaru had such low opinions of himself, however, were anything but funny.

"Were you going to go with him?" Ogata asked.

Sai blinked, coming out of his turbulent thoughts with a confused look. "Of course. I'm his legal guardian and the insei program requires express permission for kids under fifteen."

Ogata stalled at the sink for a moment, praying for patience. "Sai - can you imagine the  _Meijin_  coming in with his  _one and only student_  to enroll him? The sheer amount of pressure would be too much for a normal kid, let alone him."

Sai's skin fell into a stark pale, violet eyes wide as he digested the repercussions. It simply hadn't occurred to Sai that he would be a detrimental presence to his charge; applying with Hikaru to a program that would already take some convincing on Sai's part for the boy to join just to have the program director and the other insei treat Hikaru differently would only hurt in the end.

"But- How else can I-" Sai fumbled, horror-struck. Had he just dashed Hikaru's chances of succeeding simply by the virtue of his new role?

If he did just go and apply with Hikaru, the boy would be on the receiving end of far too much attention and pressure. Touya Akira had been on the receiving end of such attentions: as the child and student of the former Meijin, he'd been socially ostracized by most of his Go-playing generation. From that precedent, and with Hikaru's current level of ability - he had awe-inspiring potential but he was still learning and not yet near Akira's level - the combined forces of social pressures and the following disappointment would devastate Hikaru.

Ogata crossed his arms, leaned back against the counter as he stared at his friend. After a moment, he sighed - it was time for more...personal involvement in Sai's affairs.  _And this idiot won't even appreciate it as much as he should,_ Ogata thought with a waning sense of irritation.

"There are ways around the mandatory presence of the kid's legal guardian," Ogata said. "You'll still need to sign the forms but at least the rest of the kids won't know that the brat's a favorite of the current Meijin. I'll...take care of the rest."

Sai blinked up at him, confused and looking adorably stupid to Ogata's (overly-biased) sight. "The rest…? How?"

Ogata smirked, almost shark-like. "I've got a few favors I can call in," he answered cryptically.

* * *

Tsutsui hadn't known what to expect. He prided himself on at least having a rational mind when it came to predicting scenarios: for one, he knew through experience that though Hikaru was good, he wasn't good enough to match the prodigious talent of current professional Go player Touya Akira. For another, he did keep up on Go Pro news and had read enough interviews to see that Touya was a mild-mannered, if a bit cold, boy. He also knew Hikaru well enough to know that the younger boy knew nothing about professional Go besides that it was Go played for money and could be made a career. Which was why Tsutsui had taken Kishimoto's obvious cue to keep Touya's identity as a pro hidden, so at least Hikaru would play a game with enough confidence to fight with his all.

'Fight with his all,' however, was supposed to be  _metaphorical_.

"And what about this move! What kind of risks are you taking with these hands!"

"Well it cut off that group, didn't it!"

"As much good as that did! You could barely mount a counter-attack-"

"I mounted one just fine-"

"After laying down so many unnecessary complications!" Akira shouted, pointing to a point on the board with as close to a snarl as Kishimoto had ever seen.

Hikaru had lost, but that was an unsurprising result. Touya Akira wasn't just a professional, he was a prodigy that had been playing since he could hold the stones - Hikaru was good but he wasn't a  _god_.

The game itself had been long enough to perk Akira's interests and Tsutsui did not fool himself into thinking he could read as deeply into a game as a professional player. Whatever Touya Akira had seen in the match, it was enough to sharpen his eyes and pull fire from a boy made of ice. It had been a fascinating process to watch and Tsutsui had been looking forward to the post-game discussion, as Hikaru always made a point of delving deep and covering his own weaknesses to better improve.

And the discussion had  _started_  civil. Hikaru wouldn't be Hikaru without cautiously testing the waters first and Touya was well-bred and polite.

But Hikaru was more volatile as of late and Touya, apparently, did not respond well to provocations coming from sources of interest. The moment Hikaru openly disagreed with Touya's assessment of one of his more daring moves was the moment Touya apparently thought Hikaru could take as much as he dished out. Undoubtedly it would have been different had Hikaru been aware of Touya's experience and professional status, but ignorance was bliss and the boy who crafted masks of his own flesh now looked moments away from pelting go stones at his opponent. Tsutsui normally would have stepped in to quell the whatever-the-hell-was-going-on but Touya looked like he was both enjoying the discussion and barely restraining himself from lunging across the board.

"I've never seen him like this," Kishimoto stated quietly, looking utterly numb.

_("At least my move at the tengen isn't as sloppy as your weird-ass haircut!")_

Tsutsui's eyes twitched. He didn't know which 'him' Kishimoto was referring to because Tsutsui definitely hadn't seen either of the younger boys lose composure in such a way. It was a miracle in and of itself that anyone had yet to intervene, although that could be attributed to Kawakami running interference between the youngest boys and the gaping customers. Mutters and awe-inspired looks spawned from Touya Akira's presence had gone unnoticed by Hikaru for now but it was only a matter of time before he finally caught on. At least the game had been finished.

_("At least you admit that move was sloppy!")_

"We should stop them," Kishimoto hedged, although even he sounded dubious about it. "As senpai, we have to keep them in line."

_("I DID NOT!")_

Tsutsui edged a step away. Touya looked ready to breathe fire. "You first," he offered to the Kaio student weakly.

_("YOU DID!")_

_Oh my god, they're like five-year-olds._ Tsutsui couldn't tear his eyes away.

Hikaru threw up his hands with a disgruntled expression, "I don't even know why I'm listening to a guy who wears his mom's clothes!"

Akira was  _glaring_. "Says the one who wears his  _sister's_!" he retorted.

Kishimoto glanced away, a pained expression on his face. "Somewhere out there, Yun-sensei and Touya-sensei are crying," he grumbled without any real ire.

"Comments on fashion aside," Kawakami interjected, stepping up with two drinks for the vehement boys. He handed the former Meijin's son a hot mug of green tea, which shook Touya from his Hikaru-induced haze of ire to thank the owner properly. The bottle of strawberry Calpis was given to Hikaru, who popped it open with a scowl and mutter of gratitude. "Touya-sensei does raise some valid points, Hikaru-kun. It would be wise to take them into consideration."

"I already knew that," Hikaru said flippantly. "Just because his clothing sucks ass doesn't mean his Go does."

Akira snorted, unsure if he was supposed to thank the other boy for the backhanded compliment.

_He's beyond me,_  Hikaru filed internally, looking over their game.  _But Tsutsui-senpai did say Kaio was the best Go club in the region._

"-Wait," Hikaru suddenly objected, eyes wide in confusion. "Did you just call him 'sensei'?"

Kishimoto sighed noisily. The older boy was probably just pissy because Hikaru had been ignoring him, the blond-banged boy thought smartly. "He's  _Touya Akira_ , Hikaru-kun. Even an idiot like you can at least recognize the former Meijin's son?"

Kawakami made a quiet chuckling sound that went ignored, in favor of Hikaru's totally blank look of incomprehension. Now both Touya and Kishimoto were looking at the boy with matching looks of surprise at his complete lack of understanding.

Tsutsui's lips twitched up in a smile he was trying desperately to suppress, "Hikaru-kun… Do you know what a Meijin is?"

Hikaru stared from one face to another, flushing with embarrassment. "Someone….important…?" he guessed.

Kawakami turned away, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. The rest of the salon had gone utterly silent, expressions ranging from incredulous to concerned. Kishimoto had frozen up completely and was doing a great impression of a statue. Touya looked (oddly enough) to be relaxing; apparently this lack of a preconceived notion was comforting on some level to the former Meijin's son.

"In professional Go, players rise up through ranks," Tsutsui began, making sure to keep his tone conversational instead of lecturing. Hikaru wouldn't respond well to a patronizing tone, the older boy was reasonably certain. "The highest ranks are those of the big title-holders: the Kisei, the Meijin, and the Honinbou. The Meijin title is very prestigious and only the strongest Go players can fight for it."

Hikaru looked to understand but there was a confused quality to his eyes. It was easy enough to understand - Touya was apparently the offspring of a really famous Go player. He was just having a hard time trying to figure out  _why he should care_. He already knew Touya was a better player than him but he didn't see how being blood-related to the Meijin would affect Touya other than through learning from him.

"So you were taught by the Meijin?" Hikaru asked the boy across from him, guessing that this was the real crux of the matter.

Kishimoto made a wheezing sound - sounding half-choked, half-exasperated - as Tsutsui just gave up with a sigh.

"Father's retired," Touya answered robotically. He was looking back down at their game, dark eyes scouring the board as if searching for the answer himself. "The current Meijin is Fujiwara-sensei."

Hikaru shrugged, uncaring. Touya was now looking at the game with a more studious expression, no longer distracted by Hikaru himself or their argument. Instead, his eyes were locked onto the stones. His expression stilled, something like vague recognition starting to filter in at an alarming rate.

"I still don't see what any of this has to do with you being called 'sensei'," Hikaru finally admitted, giving up on making sense of the Go players around him.

Kawakami had regained his composure, looking slightly uncomfortable but also relieved. "Touya-sensei is a professional Go player, Hikaru-kun."

Hikaru stood abruptly, eyes wide. "He's  _what!"_

" _That_  startles him?" Kishimoto muttered under his breath derisively.

Hikaru pointed at Akira, the epitome of rudeness - a marker of just how shocked he was. Had he not been so enveloped in whatever he was seeing in the game before him, Touya would have been more insulted. "But he's a kid!" Hikaru choked out.

"Age doesn't matter-" Tsutsui began reprovingly.

" _Fujiwara_."

Touya said the name reverently, astonished and with wonder. His eyes were glued to the board, finally seeing the pattern - the pattern of familiarity, of hands he'd long studied, hands almost as familiar as his father's. This was what had tugged at the edges of his mind as he played, and had he not been so involved in scouting out the other boy's potential and current skill, Touya was certain he would have seen it sooner.

"The current Meijin,  _Fujiwara Sai-sensei,_ " Touya re-iterated, finally looking up to match Hikaru's stare. Bemusement turned to recognition, then shifted into shock. Hikaru stared from Touya, back to the board, and then back up to meet intense green eyes.

"Sai-san...is the Meijin…?" he asked weakly.

Kawakami slammed a hand down on the game; Touya flinched back in shock, as did both Kishimoto and Tsutsui. Hikaru remained still, shock clearly having settled in as his mind raced to connect the dots and take in the mess of perceptions.

"That's enough for today," Kawakami said politely, voice ice cold. His eyes moved from one young face to another, before turning to encompass the rest of the customers. "And unless you want to anger certain parties, I suggest you keep your tongues from wagging."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : So I'm thinking about my updates and I wanna get some feedback here: do you prefer longer chapters with a 2-3 month update schedule, or shorter chapters with a 1-1.5 month update schedule? Since I started this story keeping to a 11k-15k word count per chapter...
> 
> -I am coming for youuuu, inseeeeiii~~ (Waya Waya come to meeee!)
> 
> -Akira will FINALLY remain a recurring character. Each chapter. The drought is over!
> 
> -The Gate arc is finally over, so enjoy the positive direction. You know, before I crush- HAHAHA what a lovely day!
> 
> -I love minor characters. I love dysfunctional characters. Be warned.
> 
> _Note 1)_ **"Doki-doki"** : the sound of a heartbeat. It's supposed to be really cute-sy.
> 
> _Note 2)_ **OCs and Others** : Here's just a short review, since some have forgotten...
> 
> -Yamaguchi: Killed last chapter. One of Hikaru's regular customers; nearly bumped him up another Rank.
> 
> -Masaki: Boss of the Gate.
> 
> -Tomorou: Gate worker. He's particularly violent. Apparently killed Yamaguchi.
> 
> -Aian: Not an OC - Kaga. Currently a drug dealer while a Gate worker.
> 
> -Satomi/Mimi: Hikaru's former neighbor, intro'd him to Masaki. Fond of Hikaru and very sociable.
> 
> -Shanhai: Gate worker, sold from Shanghai. He plays Go and has now become one of Hikaru's friends.
> 
> -Chikara: Gate worker, friend of Hikaru's. Curly-haired and playful, Kaga is wary of him.
> 
> -Rizumu: Quiet boy, Hikaru often gives him gifts. Currently being forcefully addicted to drugs.
> 
> **Teaser** : You finally meet the Fujiwara patriarch. (...shudders)
> 
> Questions, comments, concrit? If so, please...
> 
> Kindly drop a review~!


	11. Broken Cord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : So many things about this chapter. It was supposed to be shorter. I have so much schoolwork it is ridiculous. I wrote this instead. _Love me._
> 
> Thank you so much for the reviews, everyone! :) They're part of the reason this chapter came out so quick.
> 
> **Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.
> 
> **Pairings** : Ditto last chapter.
> 
> **Warnings** : I'm sorry.

 

* * *

**Chapter 10**

_Broken Cord_

* * *

Kawakami was a rational person, or so he liked to think of himself. Within the past eleven years of him opening this shop under the hand of a distant relation, he could admit that his salon had seen more than its fair share of talent. It had also, mostly due to its connections, seen more than its fair share of drama: the convolution of the Fujiwara family from its upper tier had swayed even the most distant of branches. Kawakami had not known _Fujiwara, Inc'_ s head personally but he had met his late wife once: Fujiwara Saika had been a beautiful but cold figure. He had doubted the woman was capable of anything resembling love, romantic or maternal - and he had yet to be disproven of such a belief.

Which was why meeting her teenage son some seven years later (only a year after her death) had been a shock. Sai bore such a remarkable resemblance to his mother that it was uncanny and disquieting, and Kawakami at first had a hard time even meeting the boy's eyes. But Sai was different: he smiled, he laughed, he cried when he was teased and fought viciously when faced with injustice. Sai was as beautiful as his mother had been but he was so much more _alive_ than she ever was.

And the _talent_ , the sheer skill that Sai wielded - he'd blown through the salon and breathed the game as greedily as air. Kawakami had been shocked, had been impressed, had been humbled - and even now he still felt that mix of awe and love that he sometimes wondered if this is what parents felt when seeing their kids take their first step, speak their first word, graduate and dream and accomplish.

So when Sai finally returned, months after a terrible accident that still made Kawakami's heart twist whenever he remembered it, guiding in the only child he'd ever claimed as his student... Well, Kawakami could only assume that this was what being a grandparent felt like.

Hikaru was childish and petty, as quick to taunt as he was to lash out, doled out smiles and insults in equal measure. He could be sweet and polite one moment and then caustic and bitter in the next breath. He was talented, his skill not as readily apparent as Sai's had been but discernible, something present in the way green eyes watched the board and saw something being crafted that would leave his opponents wondering.

Hikaru was also a victim.

Late at night, well after the salon had closed, Kawakami had been forced to wait after with his wife. Sitting at one of the tables and draining the smoke from a lit cigarette had been Kawai, easygoing smile on his thin lips as he told them terrible things. Stories about children and adults, about money and lust and perversion, about monsters and victims.

His wife had cried because that's what good, honest people do when confronted by things not of their element. Kawakami hadn't because he'd always lived in the shades of gray, knew the taste of ash and humiliation intimately and, no matter how much Kawai rattled the chain, Kawakami would not give him the satisfaction of seeing him despair. (Kawai had _laughed and laughed_ , of course, but some monsters only prey on other monsters.) Instead Kawakami thought only of the things he could do, of his own power and why the Fujiwara family had entangled themselves so deeply that they believed Kawakami and his salon were a variable to be controlled.

_Go_. It had been the center of Sai's world before Hikaru came in and one that still continued to dominate Fujiwara's only child. Hikaru was both skilled in it and utterly ignorant to anything involving Go outside of the board, which had been convenient for a time - it was hard to feel the social pressure if one didn't know the stares were being directed at them. The clientele had learned early on to say nothing of the pro leagues, to mention nothing of Sai's rank, and Kawakami had been just as ready to step in should even Hikaru's Go-obsessed friend begin anything on Fujiwara Meijin's career.

Touya Akira was an unexpected addition. It was also enough to catch Kawakami off his guard, but he had allowed himself to be at ease when it looked like Hikaru would not connect the dots. Unfortunately, Touya had connected the dots for him.

Kawakami had never seen it firsthand, but he'd heard of the damage caused in Geographica because Hikaru had been set off. Whether the shock would cause him rage or hysteria, Kawakami wasn't sure, but between his own feelings on the matter and the consequences should Sai find his precious student upset, making sure Hikaru remained calm and unharmed was the best option.

"Sai's the Meijin?" Hikaru repeated again, quieter. Kawakami wondered which aspect of this truth was causing the most damage: that Sai had kept this relatively important information from him, that _the Meijin_ was teaching him Go, that he was adopted by the Go World-equivalent of a celebrity, or the possible repercussions of being the Meijin's only student would incur. It was likely a combination of all of the above, if the salon owner was to be honest with himself.

"You should call and ask him," Kawakami suggested evenly, gently pulling Hikaru out of his chair and leading him to the backroom. He wasn't going to risk the kid running off to who-knows-where. "This is something personal that you need to discuss with him."

"Oh, is that what I need to do?" Hikaru mocked. "Because he seems perfectly fine with not talking about any of this with me!"

Kawakami held back a smile. Anger was something he could deal with - kids got angry all the time. It was a healthy reaction. It was also enough to distract Hikaru from Kawakami's attempt at isolating him - had the boy been more calm, he would have responded unfavorably to being placed alone in a room with an older man. Hence the reason Kawakami ventured no further in the doorway, unwilling to risk pulling Hikaru's attention to more painful reactions.

"You should tell him that," Kawakami said, pushing Hikaru into the room and turning to share a look with his wife. She nodded with a sharp smile, which he took as an assent to watching and making sure Hikaru couldn't run off and hurt himself. Something crashed to the floor behind him and he glanced back to see Hikaru scowling at a fallen chair.

"Hikaru-kun, stop taking your anger out on my furniture," Kawakami reprimanded lightly. He ignored Hikaru's complaint about unjust persecution as he turned his attention back to the rest of the salon. The other customers had resumed quiet conversations, occasionally glancing over in his direction but understanding holding back their more gossip-mongering nature. The privilege of being among the few to personally know and meet with the Meijin and his student had kept them silent before and Kawakami knew it would keep them that way.

His eyes fell on the three junior high school students. Tsutsui and Touya were looking over the game, equally pensive expressions over their features and utterly silent. Kishimoto had taken to staring vacantly in the direction of the backroom, apparently shocked right into a stupor.

"Oh? Kishimoto-kun is capable of more expressions than disdain or smug superiority?" another patron cackled off to the side.

Which was apparently enough to snap Kishimoto out of his trance, dark eyes quickly gaining life in order to find the culprit. Nothing was more sure to get a rise out of young men than insulting their delicate egos, Kawakami thought wryly. It would have been cute if Kishimoto hadn't spat something back about impending funerals and a wish for the other customer to choke on his dentures, which was a clear indication the otherwise level-headed young man had been spending far too much time playing Hikaru. Juvenile insults were starting to become inappropriately common. Honestly, even though the young man looked the very image of a regal prince capable of holding court, he acted more Hikaru's age than _Hikaru_.

"I should hope that you know better than to spread this further than yourselves?" Kawakami asked, coming to a stop before the three young males. Tsutsui and Touya managed to tear the gazes away from the game to stare up at him with mild alarm, a look that was only just starting to filter in onto Kishimoto's face.

"Fujiwara-sensei really hates it when Hikaru gets upset," Kawakami continued, keeping his tone even. He really hated threatening children but in the great scheme of things - better he warn them off now than have Kawai terrorizing them later.

"Of course we won't tell anyone," Tsutsui piped up, sounding far too calm. The boy had always struck Kawakami as observant and he'd seen quite a few instances in which Tsutsui showed an apt understanding of Hikaru's situation. It was for this reason Kawakami was willing to believe him.

Kishimoto snorted, "I had no intention of telling anyone about him before and that definitely won't change now." Kaio's Go club captain was really starting to strike Kawakami as the type of boy who pulled on the pigtails of the girl he likes.

Touya had turned his eyes back to the board, saying nothing for a long moment. Slowly, he reached out on hand to hover over the board, fingertips coming down to rest lightly on the stone that had cut through his shape in a surprising move he hadn't been able to foresee. He'd recovered quickly enough afterwards, to be sure, but that Hikaru had been able to place the move in the first place…

"If Fujiwara-sensei thinks it best, then he will go at his own pace," Touya allowed softly. "I will not tell anyone, even my father."

Because Hikaru was Akira's rival - he could see that now.

* * *

Hikaru hadn't called Sai because he didn't want to speak to the man in that moment. The Meijin! _(Whatever the fuck that even really means!)_ Sai was some kind of master player at Go and didn't even have the decency to tell the kid he was teaching what that really meant!

Hikaru grabbed his phone.

_To: Sai_

_You're an idiot!_

**Sent.**

Hikaru shoved his phone back into his pocket and spent a moment glaring at the wall. He spent even more time thinking about what this all really meant. Slowly, anger bled into thought, which bled into a sickly feeling of worry. If Sai was this master pro at Go, then what did he think of Hikaru? Sai had picked up some kid from the street and was teaching him Go, a game Hikaru thought he was getting fairly good at - but what if he wasn't good enough, if at all?

What was Sai's intent on picking him up anyway? People didn't just find some kid on the street and take a vital interest in their well-being, no matter how the movies sold such intent. People ignored the things they could not understand, pretending it didn't exist so that they didn't have to deal with the consequences of facing it head-on.

If Sai was lonely, he could have amassed a following from any number of Go enthusiasts. If it was a student he wanted, people who were already into the game from the start would have been the smarter option.

Nothing about Hikaru stood out. He looked normal, his skills in the game Sai loved mediocre, his intelligence average - what was there about him that could have possibly interested Sai?

He was tired of trying to find the answer to Sai: the man's goals, his motivations, his reasons, and his beliefs. Sai had picked Hikaru and the boy still wasn't sure why. Sai had taught him Go and Hikaru didn't fully understand the reason for doing so. Sai believed in him enough to continue teaching him, to take him to Go salons and introduce Hikaru as his student to others, to adopt him when not even his own mother wanted him anymore.

Hikaru was tired of asking _why_ of everything. But perhaps even more than that, he was terrified of the answer he would receive.

_Won't he get tired of me?_ Hikaru wondered, staring at the far wall. If Sai had picked him up based off whim, then he would get discarded just as easily if he could not keep the man's attention.

_But he adopted me_ , Hikaru thought to himself desperately. Surely that meant something? Adoption was not whimsical, it required time and energy and more than enough devotion. But then again, wasn't parenthood the same? His parents had certainly seen no reason to keep him.

Hikaru pulled out his phone again, staring at the closed screen. Maybe it was Hikaru's job to make sure Sai didn't get bored of him? To keep Sai's affection, to never disappoint him, to make sure Sai would never regret making Hikaru a part of his life - maybe that was what Hikaru needed to do.

With shaking fingers, Hikaru typed out his next message.

_To: Sai_

_Sorry, I didn't mean it._

**Sent.**

"Hikaru-kun, are you done?"

Hikaru nearly jumped a foot in the air, whirling around to turned alarmed eyes on a vaguely-amused Tsutsui. The older boy had his head cocked to the side, a small smile on his lips. No change, no wonder in his eyes - just the same old Tsutsui.

"S-Sorry, what is it?" Hikaru managed out.

"If you're done talking to Fujiwara-sensei, would you like to get lunch?" Tsutsui asked, leaned against the doorway. "Kishimoto is offering to pay."

"And when did I say that?" Kishimoto interjected, unseen.

Hikaru stared at his upperclassman. Then, slowly, a genuine smile - which quickly morphed into a mischievous smirk. "Well, since Kishimoto is offering..."

_"I'm not!"_

Touya stepped up, peering around Tsutsui's shoulder with an unruffled expression. "We should thank Kishimoto-senpai for his generosity," the boy stated peaceably.

_"I hate all of you."_ He ended up paying for lunch anyway.

* * *

Sai stared at his two received text messages in open bafflement.

Ogata leaned over his shoulder, lips twitching up in a smirk. "Hello pot, I'm kettle," he muttered in an undertone.

Sai casually stepped on his foot and speed-dialed his charge. He was understandably a little shocked and confused when the first thing Hikaru greeted him with when answering was an aggravated, _"Akira's an idiot who refuses to admit that my move at the tengen point was brilliant out of the sheer jealousy he feels for my ability to choose my own clothing."_

Someone was yelling at Hikaru on the other end.

* * *

There were different kinds of people for every occupation, and it was the same for professional Go. For every Fujiwara Sai, there was an opponent that thought cheating would bring them the glory they craved; for every Touya Akira, a politician who prioritized winning over genuine success; for every Ashiwara Hiroyuki, the person who sought money over enjoyment and appreciation. There were pros that fell somewhere in between these people, or out of the spectrum altogether - and Ogata was among them, because people were not so neatly classified between the just and the cruel.

Ogata ascended the ranks of professional Go through skill but navigated the socioeconomic stratification found in every profession the only way he knew how: manipulation of an extensive network and seeding contacts anywhere and everywhere he could. Admittance into the former Meijin's study group hadn't been on skill alone because it took awhile to turn heads with people like Fujiwara Sai tearing through the ranks. A combination of deceit, blackmail, and the calling in of favors had landed him on that list in equal measure to his own abilities.

In the great scheme of power politics, everyone was a player whether they wanted to be or not. This was the philosophy he followed throughout most of his life and Ogata owed a great deal of success to it.

"It's unusual for you to ask me out to tea like this," Shirakawa Michio noted pleasantly. He looked decidedly unruffled and very benign, adorned in his fluffy white sweater and looking like any other late twenty-something who had found peace in their lives. Ogata both envied him and hated him all at once.

Ogata fought the urge to take out a cigarette and see if he could crush the burning end of it into the other man's eye fast enough. "That's because I decided you needed space after you smashed my apartment window."

Shirakawa's eye ticked, "You cheated on me."

" _We were never dating,_ " Ogata growled. "It was a one-time thing. Even the woman I was supposedly cheating on you _with_ was a one-time thing and you still punched me. But remember how I agreed not to press charges?"

Shirakawa sighed, sounding simultaneously disappointed and patronizing. "You always bring up such unpleasant topics," he said with a tone of regret.

Ogata remembered all too well why he decided to steer more clear of this particular contact. Shirakawa was cunning in a way that wasn't accurately reflected on the goban; his manipulation of the people around him would have made him a powerful politician if a fondness for Go hadn't sent him on a different path. Ogata still hadn't decided if it was a good or bad thing that Shirakawa had crippled _himself_.

"I'm calling in that favor," Ogata stated blatantly.

Shirakawa rose an eyebrow, curious. "What could I possibly do for a reknown Go pro like yourself?" He paused, a small smile that looked downright evil alighting his lips. "Oh, did Fujiwara reject you? I didn't think you'd ever have the balls to confess."

Ogata eyed the confectionary fork just millimeters from his hand. It would work just as good at gouging out eyeballs.

"This isn't about sex," Ogata returned dryly. It wasn't a preoccupation with carnal desires that had prompted Shirakawa's assumption, just an innate ability to see which buttons he could press that would get Ogata angry enough to let something more valuable slip. The bespectacled ninth-dan was both impressed and vastly irritated.

However, Ogata came here for more personal concerns than making sure Shirakawa knew he wasn't his personal chewtoy. "I want you to evaluate and - should he pass - allow a student into the insei program," Ogata said evenly.

Shirakawa snorted, boredom written clearly all over his features as he reclined back into his seat with an aristocratic air. "Well, that _does_ sound like _my fucking job_ , now doesn't it?" he sniped, one finger tracing the outline of his teacup in a gesture both lewd and graceful. Ogata ignored his reaction in favor of keeping his irritation in check.

"Without officially meeting his guardian," the ninth-dan added.

_That_ caused Shirakawa to pause, expression turning shrewd. The seventh-dan was smart, supplementing his professional career with being director of the most prestigious insei program. He'd started off as teacher of community Go classes but handed that off to lesser-dans after being aggravated by his elderly students. According to Shirakawa, with the friendliest smile ever pasted on to his face - children were easier to intimidate.

"That's unusual," Shirakawa began far too casually.

"He'll have formal consent, but a face-to-face meeting at the insei school isn't a viable option," Ogata explained.

"It's not _impossible_ ," Shirakawa allowed slowly. "Although you seem to be going to unnecessary lengths to make this happen. Just who is the kid?"

_Wrong question,_ Ogata thought privately. "Doesn't matter. Just take a look at his application, alright? But be fair - if he doesn't make the cut, don't let him in." Ogata didn't need Hikaru's already unstable ego to take a beating he wouldn't be able to come back from if he was allowed in and then subsequently pummeled by the other insei kids.

Shirakawa shrugged, "Well, alright then. This seems like a fairly light deal to me."

Ogata snorted, bringing his mug of coffee to his lips with a smirk. "That's why you're footing the bill."

* * *

Sai stared down at the dinner laid out before him. It's already been several months but he didn't think he'd ever get used to it - the idea of having a meal that was homemade, casual and familiar in a way he'd never experienced before. It was so unlike his youth: between the caretakers from both his father's home and his uncle's, mealtime had always been a polite and lonesome affair.

"Stop gaping and eat," Ogata ordered with a sneer, taking off the apron with a scowl. The ninth-dan had perfected the look of someone absolutely hating every moment of his life while actually enjoying it. Sai hadn't quite figured out why Ogata's severe expression rarely wavered.

"Of course, I apologize," Sai returned automatically. With a quiet _"Itadakimasu_ ," he picked up his chopsticks and looked over the meal appreciatively. Deep-fried sweet potato and mixed tempura with garland chrysanthemum, burdock root, and prawns served over rice. It came with a bowl of miso soup and cup of hot tea each.

Hikaru took up his own chopsticks with a low thanks, eating his food delicately as if afraid of it getting up to bite him. Ogata spared him a glance, silently musing he should come over to cook breakfast more often because clearly, _clearly_ Sai's cooking was just further traumatizing the poor kid.

"It's always so delicious," Sai said, appreciation oozing from every word. Ogata accepted the praise with a superior smirk, nearly preening at receiving it from his- _friend_. Hikaru noticeably stiffened, head bowing low and shoulders slightly shaking. Surprisingly, he kept any comments at bay.

Ogata shrugged, lightly kicking the boy in the foot. _Brat_ , he thought without any spite. Hikaru jumped back, taking a larger bite of his tempura now that he seemed certain the food wasn't going to upset his stomach.

"Where did you learn to cook?" Sai asked.

Ogata took a bite of burdock root and prawn, chewing for a moment and letting a pleasant pause stretch over the table. Even Hikaru had stopped silently mocking Ogata's trouble with dense men, instead looking far more curious.

"My mom taught me," Ogata admitted. It was only through extensive exposure to Ogata's usual brand of barbs and caustic attitude that they could even detect his softening tone. "She was too sick to cook most of the time and I told her I wanted to help out. She taught me the basics, just to get us by on the simple meals."

Both of the younger males were looking at him now, although he was glad to see they hadn't taken his high school teacher's route of projecting abject pity at him. The fact that both Sai and Hikaru had managed enough emotional connection related to family to convey a vague sense of understanding was particularly gratifying.

"I just sort of took to cooking then and my parents always seemed to enjoy it whenever I spiced up the menu," Ogata continued, tone almost _kind_. "Then after Mom died, Dad would say that she was definitely overjoyed to see that I was improving on her recipes."

His mother had died at an early age so Ogata felt he could sympathize with Sai over that particular loss. Ogata, however, was far closer to his parents than his icy visage would suggest; they had both been doting, supportive people who did their best to raise their son. Given that his mother had come under a terminal illness when Ogata had just started junior high school, the fact that the woman had acted strong for her family's sake had stuck with Ogata the longest.

_Perception_ , he had learned, was important when it came to getting things done. He knew his mother had suffered daily, the aches and pains growing with every passing moment. She still tried to smile at him, no matter how brittle her bones became. His father, who continued to work long hours to afford better care, always tried to be there in some way for his son even after his beloved wife had finally passed away. He would make boxed lunches for Seiji when he came home in the late hours of the night instead of heading straight to bed, wrote encouraging messages if he couldn't make it in time for meals, always treated his child with a gentle hand and fond smile.

Ogata took all that with him, locked it somewhere inside of himself for only the precious few. People were not just the culmination of their parents, after all: he'd learned patience from his parents, a sense of common decency and the importance of being strong no matter how adverse the conditions. But he'd also learned how to be vicious from the bullies in his school, how to hurt those who had hurt him first, how to scoff at those who didn't try in some way to better their stations as if life was just something they should only accept blindly.

The bespectacled man looked up from his careful consideration of the prawn, meeting the teary gaze of Sai. _I didn't admit all of that just to make you cry,_ he thought with wry concern. Sai certainly looked emotionally moved at this point, but then again - a snail that had successfully made its way across the road would have sent Sai into a catharsis. The Meijin was ridiculously easily influenced like that.

"I can't speak for your mother," Sai began, voice gentle and unassuming. The tears had left his eyes and now there was nothing but sincerity in his gaze that made Ogata's own soften in response. The Meijin continued on, tone just as kind as Ogata's had been as he spoke of his late mother, "But I know that every meal you make for us is a gift that I cannot appreciate enough, Seiji."

Ogata stared at him, expression contorted, strung between utter embarrassment and pleased contentment. Honestly, it was just like Sai to overreact like that and say something so- so stupid and heartfelt like that!

"No wonder your cooking tastes so good," Hikaru broke in casually. "Family recipes always trump cookbook recipes any day."

That was definitely a thinly-veiled poke at Sai's attempts at cooking, but it only went over the Meijin's head as Sai whole-heartedly agreed with the boy's assessment. Hikaru didn't elaboarate further on, though, confusing Ogata - usually the kid had no trouble teasing Sai over the man's less-than-skillful hands at things other than Go.

Still…

Ogata smirked, sharp eyes uncompromising. "I'm glad you feel that way," he said, far too casual. Hikaru tensed, sensing a trap and looking up at him with narrowed green eyes. It was a look that suited the kid more than the slightly-troubled expression he'd been carrying around ever since he came home the previous night.

"I'm going to teach you how to cook," Ogata decided, eyes firmly on Hikaru and smirk victorious.

Hikaru's eyes went wide. " _What-_ "

"Oh, what a good idea!" Sai chirped happily.

Ogata nodded, "This way you can at least have a decent meal since this idiot," he stuck a thumb out in Sai's direction, eliciting a huff. "Can't cook anything, even a freezer meal."

"Yes I can," Sai mumbled defensively, staring down at his dinner. Ogata glanced over at him dismissively; he could practically hear the world's smallest violin doling out its melancholy tone to better fit the morose picture.

"Isn't it a family thing?" Hikaru pointed out, tone hitcing up.

Ogata rose an eyebrow, "Do you really think I'm going to have a kid?"

True - the man practically oozed hatred of children.

"We'll start tomorrow with breakfast," Ogata continued on, blithely ignoring Hikaru's spluttering. "That means I'm waking you up an hour earlier than your usual time, kid, so set your alarm if you don't want to be greeted by a cup of ice water being thrown onto you."

Ogata thought this worked out rather well for him. Not only had he come up with a plausible excuse to be over at Sai's place nearly every day now (not that he already wasn't), but now he also got to teach the valuable lesson of _chores_. It wasn't that Hikaru was necessarily irresponsible, as the kid had managed to keep himself alive for however long his mother had stopped caring, but with the introduction of chores into his daily routine, it would cement the idea of Hikaru being part of a household.

Sai had started with something simple such as helping with dishes but Ogata knew that wasn't enough. Sai was just too soft when it came to the kid, which was all well and good when it came to things like comforting and supporting Hikaru - but someone needed to be a reasonable authority figure around here. Sai only ever got frightening when he deemed Hikaru to be suffering physically or psychologically. In matters such as a daily routine and the household norms, even Sai could use some help. Ogata was just being a good friend in pitching in.

It didn't hurt that this helped raise him in Sai's esteem, because oblviiousness could only last so long and Ogata had no problem waiting.

"Okay," Hikaru relented, managing to keep his tone just shy of outright sulking. Ogata had to admit he was surprised - he expected a lot less gracious assent. He knew the kid could scratch and bite until his last breath so he'd been prepared to just persuade him that learning to cook was doubtlessly more useful for future endeavors.

_Maybe he's just that desperate to avoid Sai's cooking_ , Ogata mused but a nagging feeling of doubt tugged at the corner of his mind.

Dinner was finished in short order, Hikaru and Sai picking up the dishes as Ogata made some more tea for the Meijin's after-dinner chat. The boy seemed to sense the change in the air, eyeing the humming Sai at the sink conservatively as he retook his set next to Ogata at the table. The bespectacled man shoved a mug of tea in his direction, a silent clue that he would be here for awhile. Sai sat down at the table once finished with the dishes, taking his own mug with a smile of gratitude directed at his friend.

Turning a warm gaze to Hikaru, the man leaned forward a bit, excitement clearly lining his posture. Hikaru took this as a sign that it couldn't be bad news, or even life-altering news, as Sai instead had a habit of trying to compose himself into a position ready to comfort Hikaru should he not react well. If he was excited, that meant it probably had to do with Go.

"Do you remember what I said before of the insei program?" Sai asked, eyes practically sparkling. Hikaru racked his mind to better identify the words: something to do with better studying Go among the more serious Go players who were kids like himself.

Tsutsui had been talking about it recently, with a sort of pointed look added on that mostly went over Hikaru's head. Kishimoto had been nodding along, apparently having had some experience with the program, and set about explaining it every time they weren't discussing or playing games. Then during the dinner he'd shared with the two older boys and Touya Akira, the latter had looked expectantly at him - which was when Hikaru finally understood why his friends brought it up so often. But they were just kids so Hikaru hadn't taken it very seriously besides as flattery.

Sai, however, was an _adult_.

_And the Meijin_ , his mind supplied helpfully, sardonically, a whisper of discomfort veining its way into his mind.

"Something like an apprentice, right?" Hikaru hazarded out.

Sai nodded. "More specifically, someone who enrolls as an apprentice to Go with the express intention of entering the professional leagues."

Because playing Go was a career. And the notion still surprised him.

"I can see with every game that you've improved, Hikaru," Sai began softly, the smile on his face shining with pride. The very look earned Hikaru's wide-eyed stare because he was sure he'd never seen that kind of look aimed at him before. "Kawakami-san has told me about your games in the salon and with every teaching game, you are improving by leaps and bounds. Hikaru - I think you are ready to enter the insei program."

A pause, Sai keeping his gentle smile and proud look. "But only if you want to, of course. I never did ask you before, did I? What you actually wanted to do in the future?"

Hikaru was staring at him, not quite processing this. He was ready for insei? Sai wanted him to become a professional Go player? (How was that a thing?) But more than that, what Hikaru wanted to do in the future - and wasn't that just the funniest question of all.

If someone had asked him that question maybe just five months ago, Hikaru would have laughed and laughed. He was not used to thinking about his future because he had to think of the present first and foremost. The future was an ephemeral concept, better left to those dreaming fools who could afford to eat or on a blank piece of paper his teachers would periodically hand out.

Hikaru could remember what he'd written on a few, with a mocking sweep to the kanji as he spelled out one lie or another.

An astronaut. _To leave this terrible place behind_.

An elementary school teacher. _To see what normal kids actually do_.

A marine specialist. _I'm drowning._

Without Sai, he wouldn't have a future. Without Go, he wouldn't even have _worth_.

If Sai wanted him to enter professional Go, of course Hikaru would do so. Even if he didn't feel ready for something as prestigious as the insei program, even if the idea of facing people his own age who probably would have been raised with the game, would look at him and see something that didn't belong, terrified him.

Hikaru would do whatever he needed to as long as it appeased Sai.

_So please don't tire of me._

"Insei? Tsutsui-san was talking about them," Hikaru acknowledged, pulling up a smile he didn't really feel. Sai's eyes dimmed somewhat but Hikaru didn't see it, trying to conjure up a look that had matched Sai's excited countenance.

"I love playing Go," Hikaru continued on. It wasn't a lie; Go was his escape, his battlefield, the feet he stood on when the rest of his world didn't make sense. It was more than lines on a board with monochrome stones - it was control. Hikaru had never tasted control before, not before he'd placed these little stones on wood and shaped them into what he needed.

Hikaru spoke and it tasted almost like the truth. "To be honest, I haven't thought about my future much." Ogata shifted, Hikaru ignored him. "But I think... I would want to play professional Go. And if entering the insei program is the way into it then I want to at least try."

Hikaru wondered if he should have sounded more assertive, more confident. Perhaps Sai would have appreciated someone that didn't line their goals with doubt. Hopefully he wouldn't think Hikaru was going through this half-assed, wasn't taking it seriously - because Hikaru _was_ taking it seriously. It might very well be one of the most serious decisions in his life because it felt like if he messed up, Sai would leave him in disgust.

It would certainly explain why the two older men were just staring at him like he'd grown a second head, utterly silent. Hikaru almost cracked.

Then Sai placed a gentle hand on his arm, a gesture of comfort that shouldn't have worked as well as it did. The man was smiling again but his eyes were more concerned, scouring his charge's face as if trying to discern something from his answer. Hikaru hoped he'd hidden his terror well because Sai had the unfortunately keen ability of figuring him out.

"...if you're sure, Hikaru," Sai finally said. "I have utmost faith in you. As your mentor and your family, I want you to know that you can never disappoint me."

Hikaru stood hurriedly, face flushing. Sometimes Sai just knew the right things to say and Hikaru was going to cry, he really was-

"Thank you for the meal, I'm gonna take a shower!" Hikaru announced, practically bolting to the bathroom.

When the bathroom door slammed shut with a click, Ogata snorted. Sai, left staring at the path Hikaru had taken, drew back to himself with a soft sigh.

"I was supposed to tell him about my title," Sai said to his friend. _And explain it, so he actually knows what it means to be a title-holder._ Not that Sai was much invested in it; he hadn't entered professional Go to stake his claim on the top, he'd entered it because being a professional was the best way to meet the the good players.

Ogata chuckled darkly, "Let's explain it once he's done recuperating from your increasingly domestic displays."

A lesser man would have rolled his eyes at Ogata's tone, but Sai was not a lesser man. Instead the Meijin merely took another long sip of his tea, silently agreeing with the suggestion (but not the jab, because Sai was being a perfectly normal guardian).

Ogata's adjusted his glasses, eyes careful behind the lenses. "He took it way too easily and quickly. Doesn't he usually throw around more insults? He was almost...docile."

"You make Hikaru sound like you," Sai muttered under his breath because even if he was a better man, he was _still a man_.

"But you're right," Sai agreed after a moment, eyes trailing over to the darkened hallway with a solemn stare. _And I wonder why..._

* * *

Shindou Hikaru was not exactly what Shirakawa had been expecting to waltz into his office on Sunday morning. Against the backdrop of the jittery insei slowly dragging themselves through the door, the boy stood out almost painfully in his fur-lined black coat and colorful hairpins. He waited outside the main office looking surprisingly docile, seated in one of the many plush armchairs to await being called inside.

Shirakawa had received the boy's application beforehand, as well as his games. The three games did not stand out from any other mediocre player Shirakawa had seen and he'd been tempted to just fail the boy, despite the curiosity he'd piqued at being a connection of Ogata's. For all Shirakawa knew, the kid could be some relative or even the kid brother of Ogata's current girlfriend.

However, the notes attached to each game signed by Ogata himself as the witness was a whole different story. Each game had a particular scenario: the first was a blind Go game, the last two were played simultaneously - and Shindou Hikaru had won all three with a wide margin.

He wasn't almost Uchida of the lower tier-level, as Shirakawa had first suspected - but closer to Waya of the upper tier. With nothing in the way of junior tournament credentials, a formal teaching history, or even participation in a school Go club, Shindou Hikaru had developed astonishingly well.

Then there was the last note: _he only started learning seven months ago_.

_If it's true, this kid is a monster_ , Shirakawa mused, stepping outside his office. The possibility only excited him.

"Shindou Hikaru?" he asked.

Green eyes looked up at him, wide and unassuming. It reminded the insei instructor of Fukui almost fondly - all that innocence, ripe for crushing. It was a wonder the kid could even manage to keep it with the likes of Ogata pandering to him.

"Please come inside," Shirakawa said with a polite smile.

Shindou followed him into the office. He took a seat in one of the two free armchairs across Shirakawa's desk, where the man took his own seat and spread the games over his desk. Hikaru took a moment to appreciate the ambience of the office: it was simple but elegant, the floor a gray marble while all of the furniture was lightly-varnished wood. The desk took over quite a bit of room, enough ample space atop it for the three games to be displayed while the computer hummed at the side, within easy reach of its owner. Two tall filing cabinets stood side-by-side with equally large bookshelves, filled to the brim with books and kifu.

"To be perfectly honest, Shindou-kun, these games aren't at the level worthy of insei," Shirakawa started, motioning over the games. Hikaru wilted a bit but kept silent, now attempting to steel himself for whatever came out of the man's mouth next.

Hikaru should have known. He should have put off Sai's argument over it, should have ignored Ogata's barbed encouragements - there was no way he was ready for anything as prestigious as a fucking masterclass of Go students. He'd been barred from his own school's Go club, so why the hell would something as prestigious as the insei program even bother with him?

Sai would be so disappointed.

Hikaru wanted to throw up.

"At least that's what I thought at first!" Shirakawa announced cheerfully, having watched (and enjoyed) the flicker of turbulent emotions across the child's face. Shindou got extra points in Shirakawa's inner personal rankings for masking over most of his emotional reaction, but he wouldn't be so good at what he did if some childish upstart playing at grown-up could hide from him.

"I have it on good authority that this game was played as blind go, while these two were played simultaneously," Shirakawa motioned over said games. Hikaru stared at him for a long moment as he attempted to catch up with the sudden shift in attitude, but by then Shirakawa had continued on just as exuberantly. "Do you often play such games?"

Hikaru nodded, confusion and apprehension coloring green eyes. "I play them at this Go salon… The guys kind of make me because they got tired of me winning."

Shirakawa didn't look impressed - he looked _ecstatic_. "And when did you learn to play Go?"

_When?_ "Um, well, I started learning in September last year but I didn't really play an actual game until November," Hikaru recounted. Sai shouldn't count as an actual match since he only ever played (slaughtering) teaching games with Hikaru, so the boy went with his first game against Shanhai. It was the safest bet for an accurate representation.

Shirakawa's smile grew as he pulled the kifu into a neat pile, placing them inside a manila folder. Every pore seemed to be oozing anticipation but Hikaru couldn't figure out why - the gentle look of the man was contrasting sharply with the aura he was putting off. He gave off the impression of someone that should have acted more like Sai but instead exhibited more in common with Ogata, which was perhaps the most terrifying aspect.

"Then congratulations are in order," Shirakawa practically purred, his eyes taking on an intensity that made Hikaru want to shrink back. The gentle smile faded into something more predatory, and if it hadn't been for the distance and obstacles between them, Hikaru would have been reminded of something far more unpleasant than a shark. "Welcome to the insei program, Shindou-kun."

Hikaru stared up at him, blank with shock. "W-Wait, that's it? I'm just- in?"

Shirakawa chuckled, condescending in a way that would have infuriated the boy had he not been so busy reeling. "Your current level according to your application games are more than enough to enter Class B of the program and you should even be a strong contender to enter Class A _within the month_ if your rate of progress stays the same. Not to mention you are sponsored by _Ogata ninth-dan_ , which is about as rare as getting that bitter stodge to admit to his insecurities."

Did Shirakawa just slip in an insult of the bespectacled man?

"You know Ogata-san?" Hikaru asked, fixating on something other than his apparently adequate Go skills.

Shirakawa nodded, pulling out another slip of paper the boy recognized as his initial application form. "Quite well, actually," the man replied lightly. "He's the one who originally approached me about side-stepping the mandatory meeting between myself and your guardian, and even filed most of your application under the false name of 'Shindou'. Which is why I had your school records pulled."

"What!" Hikaru cried, eyes wide. People could do that?

Shirakawa laughed lightly as if he wasn't guilty of committing a minor crime. "The insei program requires the name of the student's school and schools are always happy to provide us with the information necessary upon request," he continued. "It seems your official name change was rather recent and the secretary was _so helpful_ in updating me on it and on the status of your new guardian."

Hikaru remained quiet. Now he was aware - Shirakawa was a dangerous man. Not in the same way as someone like Yamaguchi had been dangerous; this man was more secure in his own power, more aware of his limits and able to act accordingly within his role. Nothing was more dangerous than a person that could actually _think_.

" _Fujiwara Hikaru_ ," Shirakawa sounded out carefully. "There's only one Fujiwara I know of that Ogata-sensei would go to great lengths for and you aren't the one I'm thinking of."

Hikaru looked away, green eyes fixing on the application form. The official stamp of the 'Fujiwara' name stared back at him in vibrant red ink, a splash of accusatory color against the paper.

"Fujiwara Sai is your legal guardian," Shirakawa mused aloud. "It's so _interesting_ that someone like Fujiwara Meijin adopted _you_."

Hikaru grit his teeth, petulant with self-imposed guilt and shame. He knew he wasn't worthy of the Fujiwara name, wasn't worthy of that strong connection to someone like Sai - but hearing that confirmed by the man before him left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I know that," Hikaru muttered, self-deprecation lining every word.

Shirakawa evaluated him behind his glasses. Such a talented child - and he couldn't even accurately gauge his own worth? Something would have to be done about that and Shirakawa knew his program would be able to address such a glaring flaw.

_Seems there's trouble on the horizon for you, Seiji_ , Shirakawa thought with no small amount of venomous amusement.

"No, I don't think you do," Shirakawa said softly. He pushed a newly-minted ID card forward on the desk, the colored photo of Hikaru's face smiling up at the air emptily. "But there's nothing that can't be taught with enough time and exposure."

* * *

"Shirakawa-sensei seems... _happy_ today, doesn't he?" Fukui noted aloud, quiet enough to only be heard by those in his immediate vicinity. As one, the small group of Class A insei glanced over in their instructor's direction before resolutely looking anywhere but at him when he caught their gaze and smiled at them broadly.

_A happy Shirakawa is never good_ , Waya thought rather spitefully. It was a justified response; the last time Shirakawa had looked as cheerful, he'd been crushing Maeda's will to compete in the ranking matches.

Nase shrugged, looking only slightly perturbed. She was likely just used to it by now, as their little group were a favorite target of the instructor. It was probably all Waya's fault, as he was the one who got in on Morishita ninth-dan's sponsoring and had cemented himself as one of the strongest insei. He also had an aggressive personality that only seemed to make taunting him all the more enjoyable for the seventh-dan teacher.

"There's supposed to be a new student in Class B," she explained. "I heard he already beat Imanishi."

That explained _that_ \- Imanishi was supposed to be the closest member of Class B to enter Class A. Waya had fully been expecting him any day now, but to be beaten by someone that had just entered…

"Think the new guy is any good?" Honda asked, sucking on the straw to his juice packet. Fukui and Waya were eyeing him uneasily; Shirakawa was notorious for absolutely hating any stains in his immaculate practice rooms. Food and drink were restricted, so how exactly had Honda managed to get in with that?

"He is."

Nase nearly jumped, eliciting an amused smile from the newly-arrived Isumi. Waya and Fukui garbled out a couple greetings in turn, having seen the older boy approaching.

"You've played him?" Waya asked.

Isumi shook his head, "Imanishi was studying the game earlier. He was happy to explain it to me." He paused, thinking back as he mentally recounted the on-board massacre. "I think the new guy will be joining Class A soon, too. He's only been in the program for three weeks but it's obvious he was meant for Class A from the start."

There was a general pause in consideration, before once again as one, they glanced back over at the insei instructor with shrewd looks. Shirakawa looked up from one of the ongoing games, catching their eyes and smiling at them with a guileless look about his eyes.

_He definitely already knew that!_ was the horrified consensus. While it was true every insei had to start from Class D, classes could be easily skipped provided an insei won three out of three games played with the top rank members of each class, and also the lowest ranked member of the next class up. Waya had gone such a route and even Isumi had managed to make it to the top of the insei tier through such a method.

Unless, of course, Shirakawa had ulterior motives in forcing the new insei into playing far more matches…

"Come to think of it, didn't Moriyama talk back to Shirakawa-sensei last month?" Honda asked quietly.

Fukui looked decidedly pale, "Shirakawa-sensei...how petty-!"

"Are you kidding me? The guy's a power-hungry psychopath - he has to insure his dominance over us somehow."

This time it was Honda who squeaked out in surprise, nearly bumping into an equally-surprised Waya in the process. The one who had spoken was younger than Waya, wearing black jeans and a nondescript white shirt, partially hidden under a forest green cashmere sweater. Blond bangs stuck out from underneath a tan beanie, the rest of his naturally black hair left to sweep lightly above his shoulders.

_Blond bangs…_ Isumi recognized the description of Imanishi's opponent. A junior high freshman with an easygoing attitude, uncharacteristically feminine in predisposition but frighteningly intense when seated at the goban. "You're the new insei, aren't you?" he asked politely.

The younger boy nodded with a teasing smile, "The name's Fujiwara Hikaru."

"Any connection to the Meijin?" Nase teased, regaining her good humor.

Hikaru's sudden tensing went unnoticed, as quick and subtle as it had been. "No," he lied blithely. He wasn't quite ready to admit to _that_ relation yet, especially after both Ogata and Shirakawa had cautioned him about the expectations he would meet should he do so.

"So this is Class A?" Hikaru mused, glancing the room over. It looked the same as both Class B and C, Class D being the exception given that it housed a total of 46 students while the top three Classes held only 12 each. There was more room to maneuver and apparently Class A got more of Shirakawa's undivided attention, as the lower classes were mostly left to his assistants. Not that anyone personally _wanted_ Shirakawa's undivided attention, but then again, the man _was_ good at what he did.

"It's not anything grand," Waya allowed before motioning to the older boy next to him. "But apparently Isumi thinks you'll be suffering in it with us soon enough."

Hikaru looked between them, smile resuming on his face. "If by 'soon enough' you mean 'today'. I just beat Maeda-senpai yesterday." _Four times_ , he added mentally. There was no need to brag about it - Shirakawa had looked smug enough for the both of them.

The small group broke out into a general murmur of surprise, but looked rather pleased. Hikaru filed that away internally. While it was true he hadn't been pleased by Maeda's less-than-gracious attitude, he hadn't expected the older boy to be regarded as anything but normal by those in the upper tier of the insei institute. Clearly, though, Maeda wasn't thought of fondly by his new classmates.

"So what's the deal with you and Shirakawa-sensei?" Honda asked.

Hikaru shrugged, unruffled. "We have a mutual acquaintance, but I'm pretty sure there's some history there that I'm not supposed to go into."

"So he's taking it out on you by making you go the long route?" Waya guessed, mildly disgusted.

Hikaru snorted, "No, he's just making sure everyone remembers he's a fucking sadist with a penchant for abuses of power."

"I don't think really think so," Nase began, sounding innocent - which was all the warning they got as she continued on just as meekly. "And he's been standing behind you for awhile now, guys."

Hikaru, Waya, and Honda paled drastically. They turned around, catching the full force of Shirakawa's acidic smile.

" _Shouldn't you be studying?"_ the man asked, deadly spikes edged along every word. It was easy to think of his teeth as the sharpened points that lined the jaws of a Great White Shark.

Waya and Hikaru, equally terrified, snapped back an alarmed _"I am studying!"_ and the group dispersed like cats under a firehose. Isumi had managed to get across the classroom in a split second, acting as if he'd been studying kifu the entire time without a single facial twitch. Honda and Fukui had claimed the nearest goban and were actively starting a game of speed Go, Nase looking over them with theatricalized clinical interest.

Shirakawa cocked his head, amused. The kids were a noisy, bratty bunch - but at least the young fools knew their place in this system. He chuckled a bit under his breath and ignored the alarmed look several students threw him as he passed by.

* * *

Taken from a general perspective, Ogata could see that life was going quite well for him now. He had a stable career and a promising future, his social relationships were almost healthy compared to others, and now he even had a very firm foothold in a deepening relationship with the person he was most interested in. It was now easier than ever to make himself a permanent fixture in Sai's life, given the way he was at the man's apartment almost every day thanks to Hikaru's fondness (vital dependence) on his homecooked meals.

That didn't mean his life was necessarily _easy_ , as it was so keen to remind him - namely in the form of Touya Akira standing by his apartment door with a pensive look on his young face that could only promise trouble.

"Akira-kun?" Ogata greeted dubiously, wondering why the boy had sought out his company. Not that they didn't get along - it was hard not to since Akira didn't have many friends to begin with - but the boy rarely came over to Ogata's apartment. It had only happened twice, when Touya Meijin and his wife had gone on international trips for a week at a time and left the young boy in Ogata's care.

Akira bowed politely in greeting, but his facial expression was practically screaming trouble. Ogata let him into his apartment, shutting the door behind them with a frown twisting his lips. He didn't know much about the boy's school but he sincerely hoped that the rumors of bullying weren't true. While Ogata may not like kids as a whole, the ones he did favor earned his general protection.

Akira took off his shoes, stepped out of the entrance, and then abruptly turned to address Ogata. " _You knew about him_ ," he said stiffly, an undercurrent of accusation lining that polite tone.

Ogata stared at him. "...excuse me?"

"Fujiwara-sensei's _student_ ," Akira grit out, sounding almost physically pained. "Hikaru. You knew Fujiwara-sensei was mentoring someone and you didn't tell Father?" _Me?_ was the silent but audible continuation.

Ogata stopped for a moment, staring at the boy. Then he snorted dismissively, pulling off his own shoes and stepping past the kid. All of that worry - just for this? If he had known he was getting all worked up just because Sai had taught another kid to hold Go stones properly, Ogata would have smacked him.

"So you did meet him," Ogata mused aloud. And they must have played because no one would have told him about the brat's connection to Sai.

"We played a game," Akira stated coolly, in contrast to the fire in his eyes. Ogata had to admit he was amused; this was the most animate he had ever seen Touya's son. He wondered which part of this 'conspiracy' had enraged him: that Sai had taken on a student the same age as Akira or that no one had told him about it.

"He's not at your level yet," Ogata pointed out warily. Hopefully getting crushed by Touya Akira didn't undo all the hard work Sai had put into Hikaru. Dealing with delicate egos was just as tricky as dealing with over-inflated ones.

Akira shook his head, softening. "He's not - but he'll get there. He's… He improves so-" Akira cut off, looking frustrated. He did not want to embellish but at the same time, he did not want to sell Hikaru short.

Ogata smirked, nodding. "He'll put up a decent fight someday," he agreed.

Akira's eyes flashed, "We're _rivals_."

Ogata almost choked on air. He gaped unseemly at the boy for a long moment, but Akira strode past him and to the kitchen as if he owned the place. (He was probably just too comfortable in Ogata's apartment, the ninth-dan _knew_ he should never have agreed to babysit from time to time.) Ogata recovered from the undignified expression, looking at the door in open contemplation.

This was what he got for coming home. He clearly should have just stayed over at Sai's apartment again. Anything was better than being confronted by Akira the Possessed. Akiko would kill both him and Kouyo for instilling such ideas as 'eternal rivals' into the boy. Ogata had only meant it as a self-deprecating joke, unwilling to elaborate on why he was just so interested in Sai to then nine-year-old Akira. This was a higher power's retribution, he was sure of it.

The buzzer rang and Ogata opened his door hollowly, mind racing to come up with excuses that would prove his innocence to Akira's overprotective mother.

"My, I expected a better greeting than that," Shirakawa said, eyes raking over Ogata's blank expression, tone falsely depressed.

Ogata shut the door in his face.

"Seiji," Shirakawa began calmly through the door. "If you don't let me in, I'm going to stand out here all night long and loudly explain your sexual misadventures to your neighbors."

_Why did I even come home_ , Ogata regretted. _I should have just bought clothes from the nearest store and stayed at Sai's place._

He opened the door reluctantly, stepping aside to let his cheerful former one-night-stand through. Shirakawa thanked him politely and handed him a box of manjuu before heading over to the couch, sinking down onto it appreciatively.

"Oh, Shirakawa-sensei," Akira greeted delicately, popping out from the kitchen. "How are you doing? Would you like some tea?"

"I never said you could give him my tea," Ogata sniped.

Shirakawa recovered from his surprise at the sight of the boy quickly, giving Akira a bright smile. "Thank you, Touya-kun, that would be lovely," he acquiesced.

"Morishita would be so disappointed that you're fraternizing with the enemy," Ogata pointed out bitterly as Akira vanished back into the kitchen.

Shirakawa chuckled, "Morishita-sensei is disappointed in me for very different reasons. And besides, he has yet to stop Saeki's open 'fraternization' with your Ashiwara."

Ogata snorted, "But that's _Ashiwara_." Surely everyone knew better than to get between Ashiwara and his attempts at befriending anything that breathed in his general direction. Even Ogata had given up on shaking off the younger man, and Saeki would give in soon enough.

Shirakawa hummed noncommittally, fingers tapping a light rhythm on the armrest. "Yes, I suppose you're right. For once in you miserable life."

Ogata thought back to his first meeting with Shirakawa. The man had been polite, docile even - never said a contrary word and kept a general aura of gentle neutrality about him. They'd been in rival (according to Morishita) study groups but there was some kind of weird pull between the two groups that had their members constantly interacting. Shirakawa was about the same rank as Ogata at the time and seemed to enjoy Go as much as the current ninth-dan did, so their acquaintance wasn't odd.

At least, not until they'd gone out to dinner after one game and both had drank a little too much. Not enough that they weren't conscious of their choices but enough that inhibitions had been lowered enough to even propose such an interaction. So when Ogata woke up to a naked Shirakawa casually devouring his last bagel, he didn't think much of it until the next weekend when the man had angrily busted out his window after catching sight of the purple heels in his entrance.

While that had ended any carnal activities between them - Ogata didn't need to add any more colorful exes to his history - it hadn't destroyed their mutual need to use the other. To Ogata, Shirakawa was a contact that had ingrained himself into the insei system and could manipulate it as needed; to Shirakawa, Ogata was a rising power and a close relation to the former Meijin.

It was almost _friendship_ , in the most horrible way.

"Fujiwara Hikaru is interesting," Shirakawa began casually. Ogata hated the way the man teased out Hikaru's name; it was meant to goad Ogata in some respect, as if Shirakawa was flaunting his self-discovered knowledge. "He's in Class A now and is rather sociable. He tends to disappear quickly after class ends, though - he always declines Waya's invitations to dinner."

Ogata understood that. Hikaru was likely holding himself an arm's length away, fully-conscious of his own actions. It was better to hide his lack of respect for personal boundaries with less contact, and at least the insei class put a board between Hikaru and others. Outside of class, Hikaru would have to constantly watch himself - and obviously wasn't sure he could.

"Hikaru?" Akira echoed, emerging from the kitchen with a tea tray. Ogata eyed him with a dry look. _Too comfortable here_ , the ninth-dan decided.

Akira turned accusing eyes back onto Ogata. "He knows about Hikaru?" the boy demanded, sounding nearly betrayed. Ogata almost understood - Shirakawa was a known member of Morishita's study group and Ogata had seemingly told the man such (vital?) information about Hikaru's existence while neglecting to inform Touya Kouyo - Sai's actual rival and Ogata's own teacher. If the cause of Akira's distress wasn't so ridiculous, Ogata would feel more offended by the lack of faith.

"Drop the tone," Ogata ordered briskly. "He's in the insei program now so of course Shirakawa knows him."

Shirakawa looked far too interested in the reaction. "You know Fujiwara Hikaru as well, Touya-kun? And here I thought Seiji was trying to keep secrets…"

Ogata sighed. Akira, in the middle of placing the tray onto the coffee table, dropped it - fortunately it was close enough that the tea only sloshed over the edge - as he processed the statement and then turned disbelieving eyes on both men.

"Fujiwara?" he repeated.

Both men stared at him, confused.

"Fujiwara Hikaru," Shirakawa repeated, sounding like he was talking to someone with a screw loose. (Then again, Go players…) "Fujiwara Meijin's adopted son."

Ogata glared over at him, "Did you pull those records too, you asshole?"

Shirakawa's response - probably something equally caustic and smug - was stopped by the sheer cathartic expression blooming across Akira's face. Ogata was openly staring at the kid, trying to connect the dots. If _this_ was surprising, then….

"You didn't know?" Ogata managed out weakly.

"Kishimoto-senpai only introduced him by his given name," Akira explained, struggling to regain a more solemn expression. It was filtering down into disturbingly intensive instead. Shirakawa leaned forward to grab a teacup, looking slightly uncomfortable. "So he's Fujiwara-sensei's…? They must play very frequently."

Shirakawa was giving him a look over the rim of his tea, Ogata could just see it out of the corner of his eye. The tone Akira had used in that last sentence didn't sound envious, which would have been the normal response - no, instead it had sounded overjoyed. Ogata could reason out why easily enough: the more Hikaru played and learned from Sai, the better he would become. He would become someone that actually could prop up a decent rivalry with Akira.

If Ogata had known Akira was this desperate for rivals, he would have had Shirakawa brainwash the entire next generation so that Akira would be sick and tired of anyone claiming such a role.

Ogata should try and put a stop to it. He wasn't sure how Akira's (one-sided?) rivalry with Sai's precious charge would be taken by the Meijin title-holder. If the man's apparent squashing of rumors in Heart of Stone and former interactions with anyone deemed harmful to the boy were any indication, it wouldn't be a kind one.

"He's risen to Class A within just one month," Shirakawa said aloud, clearly having decided his stance on the matter: full encouragement. The bastard actually looked amused. "He's quite a fighter on the goban. He'll be on our top insei's level in no time."

Akira smiled - and it was _frightening_. "Perhaps I won't play him until he's become a pro. I want to see his rate of improvement first-hand," he mused.

"That's an excellent idea!" Shirakawa agreed brightly.

Ogata really should stop him.

Akira took a seat on the armchair, picking up his own teacup and taking a sip. He cut a picture of elegance and grace. Shirakawa laughed quietly into his own teacup, the smile on his face warm and soothing.

Ogata stood and headed to the kitchen, aching for something stronger than the beer he was heading for. Sai was on his own in dealing with Touya Akira - there was no way Ogata was getting in between Akira and his claimed rival.

….Both Akiko and Sai were going to kill him.

* * *

Escaping the insei school was becoming harder and harder every day he went there. It wasn't that Hikaru hated it there - in contrast, he fell more in love with Go with every session. And the insei program was fun and exciting: he learned, he grew, he worked on techniques and studied with those that were deemed talented in the game.

And the other insei weren't at all what he'd expected. Sure, he'd run into a few here and there that had fit the general stereotype of sticks-in-the-mud, varying from smug to jittery depending on their rank and skill. He'd been prepared to bite down on his more vitriolic comments and just get by, keeping his attention more on the games than his actual opponent.

But then Waya would clap a friendly hand on his shoulder, fatigue-patterned pants tucked into black boots that easily kept pace with him. "It's too late for cram school, isn't it? We should get dinner together," the boy suggested. It was the third time this week. It was only Wednesday.

Waya was someone Hikaru was reasonably sure he would have easily gotten along with. The older boy was casual, not high-strung enough to be obsessed with the difference in their age and laid-back. He didn't dress as stuffy as most of the insei students, which Hikaru was thankful for because then people didn't eye him so strangely. Even after he'd forcibly toned down his usual wardrobe choices to better fit the image of the ideal student for Sai, he still dressed too- flamboyantly? nicely? for the usual insei.

Hikaru was just about to decline, as always, but then Isumi came up on his other side with an friendly smile. "That sounds like a good idea. I wanted to talk about your recent game with Fuku anyway, Fujiwara."

Isumi reminded Hikaru of Sai, with his unassuming attitude and kind words. He was less comfortable in front of the goban, however, as if every move he placed would be found foolish. It was a pity because he was one of the best opponents Hikaru had faced recently, but if Hikaru paused too long it was as if Isumi would start to crumble - purely from the inside.

"Oh, are we getting dinner?" Nase interjected pleasantly, wide smile on her lips. "Just not sushi again please, I think we've been making Waya too happy lately."

Fukui chuckled at her shoulder, "And we can't have that, can we?"

Hikaru didn't mind playing more games with Nase because girls were safe. He didn't act strangely around them, unless people found his disinterest in them strange - but it seems they'd most applied that to a stage in puberty rather than actual disinterest. Since he usually requested to play Nase during Class A games, some of his peers would mutter about unrequited crushes - but mercifully, Nase didn't seem to believe them and never brought it up.

Fukui was younger, which was another safe bet. He specialized in speed Go, which had intially thrown Hikaru off and he'd lost his first few games against the younger boy. A combination of Fukui's encouraging attitude and Shirakawa-sensei constantly breathing down their necks had forced Hikaru over that losing streak, so he won the majority of his games over the boy now.

Waya hissed _"Traitor!"_ at the younger boy playfully just as Honda finally emerged from the doorway, uttering a short apology for taking so long.

Hikaru generally held Honda at arm's length, much like he did with Isumi and Waya. He was a lot more caustic than the other two boys, equal parts sarcastic and playful. It wasn't anything like Tomorou's attitude, as Honda generally meant well and wouldn't hurt a fly - but it was enough to remind Hikaru of the violent Gate worker and knot a ball of mild distress in his stomach whenever he had to interact with Honda outside of the goban.

Waya shrugged, then threw a friendly arm around Hikaru's shoulders. "We're actually just going to eat dinner. Fujiwara is joining us today."

"But I-" Hikaru started again, vastly uncomfortable with the close contact.

"We're not having sushi again, right?" Honda demanded testily.

"What's with you guys and your hatred for sushi? _Are you even Japanese?"_ Waya demanded hotly, breaking his hold on Hikaru to enter an animate argument with the others. Hikaru was left staring at the bickering group with wide eyes, torn between fleeing or just waiting around to watch.

The group were surprisingly sociable and always seemed to want to involve Hikaru. The boy didn't know why - they seemed to get along with most everyone in their class and even a few insei outside of the top class. Hikaru could understand if they wanted to discuss games with him, as even he enjoyed some of their dissections of gameplay and the like, but it seemed like they also wanted to establish contact outside of class.

Hikaru understood himself to a certain degree. He knew some of casual reactions were strange, as he'd caught a few of the startled and befuddled looks that occasionally eclipsed Kishimoto's face whenever Hikaru responded. To elicit that same response from one of the insei, who would likely enter the Go pro world of which Hikaru was aiming... It wouldn't do to give such a weird impression.

Then again, he also wondered if he was just coming off as some haughty asshole for never agreeing to go with them.

"Sorry for dragging you out like this."

Hikaru started, turning surprised green eyes onto Isumi's smiling face. The older boy certainly didn't sound apologetic, but he wasn't being mean either - he just seemed rather fondly exasperated.

"Don't stress out too much, Fujiwara," Isumi suggested, smile teasing as he lightly poked Hikaru's forehead. The younger boy squinted up at him, irritation tugging a frown onto his lips at the boy's blatant tone. Hikaru almost wanted to snap out something about Isumi being a hypocrite for telling him to not stress but that seemed too petty.

Isumi chuckled, indicating over to the still-quarreling quartet a few steps away. "They're nothing to get worked up over. A few quirks aren't going to upset them."

Hikaru blinked, taken-aback. "How-?"

Isumi grinned, "A little birdie that likes black coffee told me."

_Kishimoto?_ Hikaru idenitifed, a cold feeling of horror sweeping down his spine. Just how much had Kishimoto caught on? Hikaru could vividly remember getting far too handsy with the older boy, but at least then Kawakami or Tsutsui were there to be a distraction. Hikaru hadn't thought much of it at the time, as Kishimoto never showed much of a reaction beyond a puzzled look before getting equally caught up in any number of arguments.

But to be called quirky by that weird Go club captain - it kind of stung at Hikaru's ego, even if it was wholly true.

"Waya's pretty touchy-feely too," Isumi added blithely, earning a hard-eyed look from said boy for the utterance of his name. Waya glowered a bit at Isumi's innocent look, wondering if the older boy was gossiping about him to the newest insei, but he was quickly pulled back into the argument over their dinner destination once Honda piped up with an authoritative "Thai food!"

Hikaru grimaced lightly. _I'm sure his is a much more wholesome brand than mine, Isumi-san._

Isumi clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder. (Apparently Waya wasn't the only one free with physical contact.) "The point is, there's no need to act so restrained with us, Fujiwara. We're all about the same age anyway."

Hikaru blinked in shock, rubbing lightly at his abused shoulder - that was twice already in just ten minutes! - but with a look of consideration on his face. He'd never considered it before - the idea of them being "just kids." With his classmates, they were background, sometimes unpleasnt or just peripheral, much in the same way they would view him. He didn't devote much thought to interaction with them and when grouped up for classwork, he always did his fair share while contributing as little as possible in discussion.

With the Gate, they weren't "children" but "commodities." There was no difference between Hikaru and the high school-aged girl, between Rizumu and the eight-year-old boy who had no tongue to speak with. They were items in a range of conditions with various purposes.

The insei were "kids" as well (or at least according to a disdainful Ogata). That meant they were not "clients" - but they also weren't "commodites" or just background. They wanted to interact with Hikaru on a social level for no reason other than that he was Hikaru. They could not hurt him because they were kids. They could not help him because of that very reason.

They were just... _kids_.

Seeing Honda's face turn red with how vehemently he was explaining the beauty of Thai curry, Hikaru wondered if Rizumu had ever liked something enough to argue in its favor. With Nase giggling behind her hand as she occasionally egged on a more virulent response from either Waya or Fukui, Hikaru thought about Chikara and how he only ever seemed to smile at the darkest aspects the Gate had offered.

_We're children, too_ , Hikaru thought suddenly. It was a painful claim and one he didn't even fully believe - but it was enough of a push to make him truly think about it. Rizumu, Chikara, Shanhai, Aian, Mimi - they were kids too. They didn't want to be in the Gate, they just had no way out. They didn't even have enough hope left to look for one.

Hikaru had that now. He didn't know how to save them yet, but just half a year ago he'd been rotting away in a hotel room bed for money. Now he had Sai, a skill that was developing enough to earn him a place among the most promising, and even a career path.

It wouldn't be immediate but there was definitely a way to help his friends out. Hikaru would find it. If Sai could beat Masaki, then what else could possibly get in the way?

Hikaru took in a deep breath. In the back of his mind, he could almost hear Rizumu's soft voicing humming along to the beat of the music he'd bought him. Hikaru blew out.

"Let's have shabu-shabu!" Hikaru suggested brightly, latching on to Waya's arm and practically dragging the taller boy forward to the train station. The others stared after him before quickly falling into step, one thought uniting them in a quiet moment of collectivity:

_Isn't it getting too hot for shabu-shabu...?_

* * *

"You're not going to the Go salon today?" Tsutsui asked.

It was a fair question. Hikaru had to give up his Sundays to the insei school nowadays, as well as a few of his weekday afternoons. Only on Fridays and Saturdays were insei classes closed - Hikaru spitefully wondered if that had more to do with Shirakawa-sensei trying to recover from his hangovers than anything else - but even then he'd established fairly frequent contact with the other insei now. Waya and Nase were always inviting him to meet up outside of class, trying to engage him more along the lines of friendship.

Hikaru shook his head, giving the older boy an apologetic look. While Tsutsui had only ever been encouraging and understanding when it came to Hikaru entering the insei program, the blond-banged boy couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for not seeing the former Go club captain as much as possible.

"I have to go to the supermarket to get some things for dinner," Hikaru explained sheepishly. Ogata had told him that morning that he wouldn't be there for dinner tonight, having gotten tied up in a study group later in the evening and unsure when he'd be let off. He'd written down a relatively simple meal plan for Hikaru to follow, citing the ingredients missing and giving the boy the required cash to get them.

Hikaru knew that, technically, he could just order takeout - but something about the idea of Ogata teaching him his family recipes meant Hikaru felt inclined to honoring them.

Tsutsui shrugged, easy-going smile on. "Well, I'm sure Fujiwara-san will be happy to eat dinner with you then."

Hikaru flushed, turning a light shade of pink and glaring at the older boy when he couldn't choke back a laugh. Stammering out a goodbye, he headed off in the usual direction of Sai's place. While it was a longer travel distance than his mother's apartment, it was definitely worth it.

Ogata had sent him a simple recipe for baked fish, miso soup, and mixed vegetables. He was missing the okra and the fish, but they still had some tofu left over from the night previous and Hikaru was confident that he could use the stove far better than his guardian.

_I can practically already see Sai crying tears of joy over it_ , Hikaru mused lightly. Ogata's manhandling of him into cooking was working out very well for him: with the added skill of cooking, Hikaru was improving as a charge and then surely Sai wouldn't get tired of him as quickly?

He'd even mostly reined in his attitude by now. He kept his jabs at Ogata and his painfully-obvious crush on Sai to almost nonexistent, he didn't pick on Sai as much when the man devolved into emotional tears at the slightest sign of Hikaru's improvement, and he'd even been very well-behaved at both school and Heart of Stone.

Sure, Kishimoto and Tsutsui had seemed kind of freaked out that he wasn't as insulting as usual, and Ogata never stopped giving him these calculating looks that reminded Hikaru eerily of the way Shirakawa-sensei would look over his games, and sometimes even Sai would stop and stare at him for a long moment before saying something that was equal parts comforting and concerned.

How terrible had he been, if not insulting them was a drastic change in his behavior? _No wonder my classmates never talked to me_ , Hikaru thought.

A hand dropped onto his shoulder. "Hey, Hi-ka-ru-kun~!"

The voice was familiar, as was the pungent smell of tobacco. Hikaru half-turned, giving an inquisitive stare to the man that had stopped him. Kawai was smiling down at him, although the expression looked more feral than it normally would have on anyone else's face. Hikaru didn't know very much about Kawai, except that he was a professional acquaintance of Kawakami-san's and that he played a decent Go game.

"You're free now, right? There's someone I want to introduce to you," Kawai continued. Hikaru's panicked expression snapped into place, but by that time Kawai was pushing him forward and-

Into a cake shop?

An _empty_ cake shop. The apparent owner was hovering behind the counter, looking worried but resigned as she watched their procession from the doorway. The counter normally filled with an assortment of pastries and cakes was empty, however, along with nearly every table and chair.

The lone exception was the man seated near at center table. The table, clearly meant for six people, was filled with every cake and pastry imaginable, creating a rather colorful picture against the worn wood and in contrast to the austere look of the man himself. He sat straight-backed but casually elegant, one hand loosely clasping a hot cup of some kind of herbal tea. His hair was mostly dark but there was a slight tinge of gray at his temples, making him look more handsome in an aged way rather than just old.

It was his eyes though, that caught Hikaru - a vibrant shade of violet.

Kawai maneuvered Hikaru into the seat directly on the left, before with a gentle pat to Hikaru's head, he abruptly left. Hikaru was looking from Kawai's departing back, to the stranger, to the cakes littered about the table, then back to the stranger.

He wasn't familiar, not in the least.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Hikaru," the man greeted pleasantly. "I am Fujiwara Mitsuo - Sai's father. And, as it now seems, your grandfather."

A block of ice dropped into Hikaru's stomach. He hadn't even realized Sai had parents that were alive; the man never spoke of family and Hikaru had never asked. Perhaps he should have - was it rude not to? It was probably stupid not to, given that Sai had adopted him.

His gaping face must look quite idiotic right now.

The man only continued smiling, waving a hand to get the shopowner's attention. She scurried over warily, giving Hikaru a tentative smile that was half her job and half worry.

"What would you like to drink, Hikaru?" Mitsuo asked, only looking mildly curious. "The passion fruit yogurt drink is really good here."

"Th-That sounds good," Hikaru agreed hollowly.

He seemed to come back to himself as the lady took off to make it. "It's nice to meet you too!" Hikaru choked out, hoping against hope that it sounded even moderately happy. He couldn't get a proper read since Mitsuo's expression didn't even waver from its ever-present smile. It was both like and unlike Sai's - whereas smiles and tears came in easy measure to the Meijin, the smile that fell on Mitsuo's lips didn't hold even a sliver of that same sincerity.

It didn't look _fake_ either, which made Mitsuo dangerous. He was clearly used to hiding his emotions under a proper visage, and if he was that skilled, Hikaru wouldn't be able to gauge how well their interaction was going.

Hikaru couldn't even react well with his peers, and now he had to put up a proper act for Sai's father? If he messed up here, who knew how long Sai would put up with him afterwards? Family, after all, seemed to be everything to Sai; he certainly put enough effort into trying to bring Hikaru into the fold.

"Pick any cake you like, I bought them all for you," Mitsuo said with a generous wave. It wasn't bragging, as the late Yamaguchi had favored; it was merely a statement of fact, as normal as if he'd merely bought him a cup of coffee rather than the entire stock.

Hikaru went slack-jawed for a moment. It was probably too much to hope that the store was just...unusually, freakishly empty on a Friday afternoon after school had ended. Hikaru had had some idea that Sai came from wealth - it was hard to miss those mannerisms of his - but that he could buy out a cake shop for the afternoon…

"Thank you so much!" Hikaru gushed, bright smile on full force. He rocked forward in his seat, an excited child about to enjoy some sweets. He picked the almond mont blanc that was closest to his plate, pulling it towards him just as the shopowner returned with his drink. He accepted it with a cheerful exclamation of gratitude, ignoring the way she seemingly flinched at his sudden shift into an exuberant attitude.

In some ways, it was just so much easier to be Itsuka.

Mitsuo didn't say anything, elbows on the table as he rested his chin atop his clasped hands and merely watched the boy eat. It was not the look of one of those men who were envisioning the later hours of the night, but it _was_ the look of a predator - someone able and willing to exploit weaknesses.

"I understand you're enrolled in the insei program now?" Mitsuo started conversationally. He pulled one of the multicolored puddings to himself, taking up a dainty spoon and completely surprising Hikaru by the strange pick. Then again, Sai did seem to have an obsessive love for the colored, fizzy sodas... Perhaps he'd picked up that sweet tooth from his father.

Hikaru nodded, finishing his bite of mont blanc before answering. "Sai taught me how to play," he explained. _Keep the cheer, don't stop smiling_ , he reminded himself viciously. "He's really good at it- well, of course _you_ know- um, yeah. So I'm in Class A now."

He was used to re-routing conversations back to his clients, but by then he'd usually have asked them all the pertinent questions before and could circumvent conversations to avoid answering personal inquiries.

Here, Fujiwara Mitsuo was in absolute command. Hikaru knew absolutely nothing about him, and the only lead Hikaru had was Sai - but bringing up the Meijin would seem insulting. Mitsuo would of course know everything about his son, and Hikaru even unintentionally insinuating he didn't could be taken in the worst way.

"Class A!" Mitsuo echoed, sounding ecstatic. It should have sounded mocking since it certainly didn't sound sincere - but he just seemed so _pleased_. "Congratulations on such rapid improvement, then. Sai is certainly very good but you should take some credit as well, Hikaru. Even he can't foster someone so well if there wasn't already such innate talent."

...Well. That actually just sounded like a blunt _compliment_.

"Ah~ The pudding is really good here, too," Mitsuo sighed, smiling brightly. "It's so heavenly... Just the right amount of firmness, chilled to perfection-!"

Hikaru's cheerful expression faltered into just blatant staring. Sai's father was...mooning over his pudding?

The signals were too contrasting. The setup was too manipulative, the mark of a professional. It was something expected of the likes of Tomorou or Masaki. But the smile, the easy familiarity - that was a common marker of Sai. And the latter was the one Mitsuo shared blood with, was the one he raised.

That's right, this man had raised Sai, hadn't he? Sai was not deceitful or frightening; he was soft and gentle, always ready to help and ask for nothing in return. Surely the one who had raised such a person had to be better than the likes of the Gate workers.

His phone began to trill with the soft sound of his _gagaku_ ringtone. He didn't even have to look at the caller ID to know: Sai.

"Is that Sai?" Mitsuo asked, breaking away from his pudding-induced euphoria.

Hikaru nodded, pulling out his cellphone and praying that answering it didn't seem rude. He certainly couldn't ignore it, since that would possibly send the Meijin into hysterics. Hikaru didn't think either of them wanted that, especially since then Sai would call Ogata and _hell hath no fury like an overprotective Ogata_.

"May I?" Mitsuo requested, holding out his hand for the cellphone. Hikaru handed it to him after a moment of hesitation. He couldn't really come up with any reasons as to why Mitsuo shouldn't speak to his son, after all.

Mitsuo answered, pleasant as always. "Hello, Sai."

Hikaru was close enough to hear the general buzz of the other end, or more specifically - the lack of noise. Clearly Sai had not been expecting that. Hikaru couldn't make out the words of what Sai said next, only barely able to discern the tone - frigid. Perhaps he thought Hikaru was taking up customers again.

"Of course it's your father, Sai. Really now, this is because you don't call me enough that you can't recognize my voice on the phone."

A pause, another beat of silence, and then - a slightly louder, more irate voice responding.

"Hm? Hikaru and I are having a nice chat over some cakes, grandfather to grandson. You're welcome to join us, of course - it can be a family treat!" Mitsuo offered brightly.

Sai certainly didn't sound happy when he was replying.

"We're at that little cake shop you love. 'Let's Time', it's called. Quite a nice place, you've always had such good tastes when it came to-"

Mitsuo blinked, then pulled away to look at the phone. "Oh," he was smiling at the cell now. "He hung up on me."

Hikaru had completely lost control of his mask at this point. He couldn't even begin to ask questions now. Sai didn't get along with his father? ...Did Mitsuo actually love his son, or was he more like Hikaru's mother had been? It would certainly explain why Sai now spent his free time picking up at-risk children from the streets.

Or maybe the Fujiwara clan was never to be understood.

Hikaru busied himself with his yogurt drink as Mitsuo polished off his pudding cup. Just as the man had begun to eye the caramel flan across the table, the shop's door clattered open with a violent tinkling of the bells as Sai stormed in.

Hikaru could do nothing but gawk at him. Sai looked furious; he was pale and shaky, seemingly having run the distance from the bus station to this shop purely on anger alone. He came to a stop next to Hikaru, one hand clamping onto his charge's shoulder as narrowed violet eyes remained on his father.

"You look well," Mitsuo stated, relieved and happy.

Sai was having none of it. "You kidnapped him, didn't you?" he scowled, practically pulling Hikaru out of his seat. The boy followed along messily, a jumble of limbs that Sai only half-consciously sorted out to better hold. Apparently protective instincts were flaring high right now, although Hikaru couldn't see why; Mitsuo wasn't actually doing anything.

"I wanted to chat with my grandson, is that so wrong?" Mitsuo sighed, playing the victim. It was playful, however, as if he'd expected Sai's reaction and only found it endearing. The Meijin gritted his teeth, uncharacteristically unkempt when confronted by his father.

" _Just stay out of our lives_ ," Sai finally managed out. He turned and grabbed hold of Hikaru's wrist, pulling the boy along without ever looking back. Hikaru did, though, catching Mitsuo's gentle smile and farewell wave.

Once out of the shop and down the street, Sai finally managed to recover enough equilibiruim to start ranting. "You are _never_ to be alone with him, Hikaru! Do you understand? If you even _think_ he's trying to approach you, you tell me right away!"

Hikaru wanted to point out that how was he supposed to know, he hadn't even known Sai had a father to start with. But the words caught in his throat, unwilling to make themselves known as Sai herded him towards the bus stop.

"-Sai. Sai, you're _hurting_ my wrist."

The words finally broke through, clearing the haze of worryanger _terror_ that had clouded Sai's mind the moment his father had picked up the other end of the line.

Sai let go hurriedly, twisting around in regret. Hikaru's face was downcast, his expression carefully cleared into neutrality. It was a defensive look on his young face and Sai did the first thing he was used to doing - he hugged him.

"I'm sorry for acting that way," Sai murmured. "...but he's _dangerous_ , Hikaru."

He said it like a secret, as if his own father was the monster that hid under his bed as a child. Hikaru slowly raised his arms to hug Sai back.

He supposed he wasn't the only one affected by monsters.

* * *

"...what the fuck are you doing?"

Tomorou glanced back, grin stretching his lips wide as he continued his strokes with the brush. Black ink smeared across the paper in gentle glides, thick and thin as per his desire as he drew out each scribed character with artistic precision. The ink may be heavy but it dried fast, so Tomoru knew he wouldn't be down here for long.

Masaki looked like he was moments away from either punching him or just rolling his eyes. Tomorou had noticed the blond looked more upbeat lately, a strange reaction to getting his ass whipped that sent some of the lower members of the Gate into panic attacks. If Chikara hadn't been so busy wallowing in his depression, he probably would have been as amused as Tomoru was.

"It's only proper to mark it," Tomorou answered lightly. He set the brush aside and stared at his finished work - simple, elegant, and skewed. It fit Shanhai perfectly.

Masaki looked over it, feigning disinterest. "That doesn't even make fucking sense," he sneered after a moment.

Tomorou pulled out his phone with a smirk. "That's because it's in Chinese, you idiot."

Masaki glared over at him, before moving to hover over the plain wooden box set on the floor. They were in the basement of the Gate, the only place deemed safe enough to keep the box so that it wouldn't be disturbed until it could be sent to its final destination.

"Where's he going, anyway?" Tomorou asked, flipping open his cell to type out a message.

Masaki stared at the box, reaching out to gently stroke the edges. "The ocean. It's the closest we can get him to home."

Tomorou hummed in response, sending the message out with a quick thumb jab. Only a few moments later did his inbox ping with a failed send notice.

"Oh, he cancelled his phone," Tomorou pouted.

Masaki didn't tear his eyes away from the box. "Who?"

"Itsuka. I was going to break the news to him," Tomoru replied candidly. Now he had Masaki's undivided attention; the blond's eyes were angry as they bored into him. Tomorou just grinned wolfishly in response; there was nothing Masaki could do about Tomorou's willfulness and they both knew it.

"Why?" Masaki finally asked.

Tomorou shrugged, uncaring. "Because of hope, I suppose. It's such a silly thing," he explained, picking up the piece of paper he'd worked so hard on. Fingers began to turn and fold the pages, slowly, gracefully; there would be no mistakes here. Fold, fold, fold; he tucked and pulled, soon enough having an origami crane resting in the palm of his hand. "Hope always seems to desert you the moment it's most needed."

Masaki said nothing in reply, only watched him as Tomorou moved forward to join him next to the wooden box. He opened up the crate and placed his gift among the ashes.

"Goodbye, Shanhai."

**春來不覺曉** **,**

_Spring dreams not awakening,_

**處處聞啼鳥** 。

_Until everywhere birds are singing_.

**夜來風雨聲** ，

_In last night's storm and rain_ ,

**花落知多少** **?**

_Guess how many flowers reeling?_

* * *

**A/N** : Only Hikaru could take step forward and then cartwheel back... Oh but I still haven't decided on chapter lengths, so we'll see how that ends up.

- **On Shirakawa** : He's the Go instructor from the beginning chapters in canon. He just...took over his own personality and I can't stop him.

- **On Fujiwara Mitsuo** : He's just getting started~

- **On Fujiwara Saika** : Mitsuo has a terrible sense of humor.

(Saika = 彩花, "colorful flower". Interestingly _(cough),_ "the lowest, the worst ( 最下)" and "calamity, catastrophe (災禍)" are also pronounced "saika" because I am a terrible person.)

- **On Shanhai** : He's dead. (cries) The poem is Meng Hao-ran's " _Dawn in Spring_ "

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Teaser_ : ... (defensive look) Maybe the positive direction is still going! (looks away, guilty)
> 
> Reviews greatly help speed up the writing process~ ;) I received so many great reviews last time!
> 
> _So any questions, comments, concrit? Then..._
> 
> **Kindly drop a review.**


	12. Cruel Embroidery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N** : The sad thing is this chapter was mostly done a month ago aside from the last section, but then I had last minute essays and then final exams. Then I was totally hyped to finish it but foolishly thought I could do so after watching the finale of NBC's Hannibal. _No. I couldn't._
> 
> The reviews were epic last chapter! Thank you thank you thank you! Let me love all of you!
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.
> 
>  **Pairings** : (dry look)
> 
>  **Warnings** : That poor bird.

**Chapter 11**

_Cruel Embroidery_

* * *

"Does it have a name?"

The words were spat from a mouth used to lying, every syllable dipped in a tone of casual acquaintanceship that adequately hid the belied contempt. It tasted like iron in his throat, meaningless in its entirety but soothing as it interrupted the silence. It was the silence that he could not take - it was accusatory and disdainful, invalidating his existence.

Fujiwara Mitsuo hummed in assent, violet eyes never straying from the cage. The bird trapped within had feathers as green as a fresh apple, tapering off into a bright yellow before topping with a light flush of red-orange for its head. It chirped intermittently and hopped from its perch to cling to the bars at the bottom, protesting its cage with a  _click-click-click_  of of gnarled claws on metal.

"Momo," Mitsuo answered.

The boy's smile was crooked. "Terrible. How unoriginal."

Mitsuo chuckled. "I wasn't a very creative nine-year-old," he acknowledged. He turned back at the impressed whistle this comment prompted, peering at the other male curiously. The boy shrugged, cocking his head to the side with a casual smile.

"I didn't think birds lived that long," was the explanation.

Mitsuo smiled. "Momo has always been by my side."

He took a seat behind his desk. It was a monster of black-painted wood and glass, L-shaped in its entirety and providing far more room than a home office required. His filing cabinets were lined behind him like soldiers of hidden paperwork, unwelcome and ugly but matching the purpose of the room consistently. The floor was white tile, left unhidden to better catch anything unwanted, the walls bare of any decoration or distraction. The windows were high and wide, illuminating the ceiling with choked daylight that didn't quite reach the room's inhabitants. Most of the illumination was provided by the archlights crisscrossed over the ceiling, brights bulbs that shined with a hospital glow.

The boy lay sprawled over the lone leather couch stationed in front of Mitsuo's great desk, a dour burgundy piece of furniture that contrasted with the monochrome setting. Along with the single vase of wisteria blossoms that sat on Mitsuo's desk, these were the only two splotches of color in a room otherwise void.

" _Ah_ ," the boy said after a moment, understanding having dawned. Mitsuo's smile never wavered in the ensuing silence, having waited patiently for his companion to reach his own conclusions.

Shinya was a remarkably astute boy. The moment he had been cornered by one of Mitsuo's men, the boy had put two and two together and then attempted to run. If it hadn't been for Kawai's quick thinking and reflexes, their one lead to finding Masaki would have vanished into the shadows of Shinjuku. For a drug dealing deviant, Shinya was surprisingly sharp; the moment they had mentioned wanting to meet Masaki to better discuss their options and possibly see this 'Gate' where the teen pimp stored his goods, Shinya had shut up real quick.

Finding information on Masaki alone was hard enough, which was a point of due consideration. For the extensive network the teenage pimp ran, it was nearly impossible to pinpoint an exact location for the boy. He was a ghost as far as Mitsuo's contacts were concerned, and tracking down any leads on Masaki had taken the better part of a month. Kawai had only been able to find information that the teenage pimp was the ringleader through one of his own underground contacts, who had now disappeared and was presumed dead. Whoever the power-holder was behind this Masaki, it must be someone as influential as Mitsuo himself.

Mitsuo scanned the documents spread out over his desk. Black text stared back at him, feeble attempts at organizing the chaos of the world into a format meant to be rationally understood. These figures were meant to represent a host of broken people, as if their motivations could be properly assigned words, as if sentiments and thoughts and reactions could be rationalized into some type of predictable coherency.

Shinya spat blood onto the floor. Red scattered across the tile like a dozen tiny, blossoming flowers. The boy smeared it with one errant foot, a spasm forcing his limbs to kick out helplessly. The teenager's right eye was swollen shut and his left had taken a blow that had left blood draining from a wound across his eyebrow. A few deep breaths later, Shinya relaxed; the chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles keeping him locked mostly in place rattled in time to the bird's chirping.

The office was needlessly noisy.

Mitsuo stood again.

The wings beat at his fingers and the trilling was startling, jittery, betrayed. Its tiny beak and talons could not reach enough flesh, its feathered body was too light to shield and stop him. Such a poor, powerless creature that fought to live but was too weak to do so within his grasp. Brittle, hollow bones gave way and were crushed; the trilling stopped; feathers twisted and weaved within his fingers, a mesh of green, yellow, and orange dyed red.

His late wife Saika had been pretty but she'd been dead long before Mitsuo had gotten to her. With her pale skin and long, dark hair - she looked less alive than even the frailest of porcelain dolls. She was boring, with no ambitions or passions, nothing in the way that marked her alive. He knew,  _knew_ that if he'd ever bothered to wrap his hands around her thin neck she wouldn't flail as his lovely bird had done.

" _Why don't you love me?"_ she'd ask him on her worst days.

" _I never could,"_  Mitsuo would answer honestly.

Thus the only one who had been shocked by Saika's death was Sai, who had found her hanging from his bedroom's ceiling fan. Mitsuo understood Saika's character far better than his son, knew the location was her own petty way of getting back at her family: her final taunt to the man who had never loved her and the son she envied with every breath she had drawn. To Saika, death had been a means of revenge.

There was nothing merciful or serene about death. It was merely a state of nonexistence; his lovely bird did not look peaceful as a corpse, it merely looked bent and gruesome. Mitsuo had never understood the sentiments associated with death, as if it were something noble and virtuous. Death was uselessness, death was an end; death became the anthem upon which the weak could tout because it was better to see it as virtuous than an inevitable conclusion.

Sai was a breath of life in the monotony. His son was nothing like Saika; he was energetic, cheerful, interested in everything and never shied away from a challenge. It never mattered what lessons Mitsuo put him through, Sai would accomplish them and shine, gratified to have learned and willing to use those skills. Even Saika could not hinder her only child's progress, no matter how often she threw discouraging words at him.

As Sai grew, Mitsuo only grew to love him more and more. Sai would smile and laugh, would steal flowers from the gardens out front and hand Mitsuo the petals, would try to whisper secrets into his mother's ear that were too innocent to be considered as such. But innocence does not last, not in this world and definitely not in their family; Sai had grown and watched and listened.

Kousuke had been the tipping point, the one that had sent Sai running but the decision itself would be the one that would save Mitsuo's only child. Sai understood his father on some fundamental level and correctly feared him for it, had known that with the death of his mother and with the breadth of such horrifying, limitless love that Mitsuo offered, he would not survive. So he'd gone to Saika's brother and begged for sanctuary, was granted both that and a future career.

Sai's escape and subsequent cutting of ties to his patriarch's side meant nothing to Mitsuo, especially with what was promised in the long-run. He'd been keeping tabs on his independent son the entire time of course, but even he had been taken by surprise the moment Sai had started to withdraw from his personal trust fund.

Kawai's early observations yielded little results, aside from the new information that apparently Sai had decided to finally take on a student. Mitsuo understood enough about Sai's career to see that his son was held in high-esteem and that it was unusual he had yet to dedicate his time to teaching - that was probably a combination of his parents' faults and Kousuke's influence, in retrospect - and that perhaps Sai had yet to understand what it meant to be a teacher. ( _"Think I should tell him that usually students spend more money on their teacher, rather than the other way around?"_ Kawai had mused one day.) But then the reports started to become more in-depth, the picture started to clear-

And then Shindou Hikaru had moved in.

Kawai's early reports indicated the boy was a trouble student, with only one family member not worth the effort it took to threaten her. Hikaru, though - Hikaru was  _interesting_. A boy that had escaped his own home in a way very different from Sai's method, who believed in nothing and no one, whose smile was the acid to Sai's honeyed look.

" _In conclusion,"_  Kawai had stated, smirk on his lips twitching into a full-blown grin.  _"Your son has been purchasing a child prostitute for four months."_

Mitsuo didn't care about the profession. He didn't care about the victims, he didn't care how many kids had been trapped under this juvenile criminal Masaki, he didn't even care that the boy his son was obsessed with was in far worse shape than first perceptions realized.

Mitsuo only cared because Sai cared. He loved Sai, would have given him the world a thousand times over had he but asked for it. His thoughts were dominated by what he could do for Sai, all while knowing what he _would_ have done to Sai had Mitsuo been even slightly less restrained.

Sai's escape to Saika's brother had been what had saved them  _both_.

"Where is Masaki?" Mitsuo asked. He'd asked it several times within the past few hours, playing his part in this senseless litany. People weren't statistics, weren't marks on a graph, weren't the case studies accrued by professionals who loudly condemned them. If they were, the boy across from him would have told Mitsuo everything he'd wanted to know long ago instead of lying beaten on a sofa, far from where anyone could hear him scream.

Shinya smiled at the sunlight. "Far away from you, you crazy asshole."

Blood ran into the cuffs of his shirt. Mitsuo watched it seep in, red on pale blue. He turned and moved back over to Shinya's sprawled figure. Violet eyes evaluated the teen before him, consideration lined in his expression.

"I'm merely trying to secure a better future for your 'Itsuka'," Mitsuo explained. It did not sound sincere, a curious quirk of tone he'd never been able to remedy. The only thing he could do was make sure it didn't sound false, but the teen proved not to care either way.

Shinya laughed without humor, teeth a light sheen of crimson from his own blood. "That's a fucking lie and you know it!"

Mitsuo didn't react to the call-out. "Family is important to me," he said instead. Shinya's laugh died down. Mitsuo stared at him evenly but Shinya matched the look with a soft smile, more genuine than anything Mitsuo had shared in his entire life.

"Why do you think I'm not telling you anything?" the boy posed.

Mitsuo sighed, turning around to return to his desk. He pressed the call button on his desk phone, a buzzer to signal for Kawai to return. Shinya was resilient but he was only human; he would crack eventually.

"Say, old man," Shinya drawled. "Just how many Momos have you had?"

The door opened and admitted Kawai into view.

The Fujiwara patriarch's eyes trailed idly over the wisteria blossoms trapped within the vase on his desk. The petals were fresh, unlike the crushed and dying petals that a young Sai would hold out for him in one open palm.

"My son is 28 years old now," Mitsuo answered. "And I only wanted him to see beautiful things."

* * *

Honda brushed the bangs out of his eyes with a low sigh, idly crunching down on the lollipop he'd been sucking. "Makemashita," he allowed with a general crackling of candy muffling the concession.

"Thank you for the game," Hikaru replied. A moment later saw the blond-banged boy sitting back, posture relaxing into something more casual and losing the predatory look that had eclipsed those glaring green eyes since he'd taken his seat across the goban. If he hadn't found himself playing against Hikaru so regularly, Honda would have been more intimidated by the younger boy's behavior. As it was, this constant losing streak to Class A's newest entry was as absurdly common as Waya bullying others into getting sushi for dinner or Mashiba heckling everyone to get the advantage.

 _"Maybe he wants to prove himself?"_ Ikeshita had suggested, gentle in his words but blind in his assumption. The idea of "proving himself" implied something was amiss with Hikaru's status within the class, or that something was inherently wrong in his playing. Shirakawa-sensei may have skipped some general conventions in regards to the blond-banged boy, but there was no mistake - Fujiwara Hikaru was insei material. Rather than proving himself, he was  _asserting_  himself: he would play at full strength at all times and damn where everyone else was if they faced him on the goban.

 _I should probably be scared_ , Honda thought. It was clear to all of them that Hikaru was going to rise straight to the top of the insei class; even now Isumi was starting to falter in front of Hikaru's growing strength while Waya equally lamented and encouraged the younger boy's every success.

And honestly, Honda was scared. He knew with Hikaru's introduction into the insei institution, his chances of passing the Pro Exam this year had lowered considerably. Previously what had been the highly-contentious third open spot to those of Class A had now been pushed to Waya, as Hikaru rose past the older boy with startling speed.

Honda may be scared of what Hikaru meant to his prospective career, but it was hard not getting excited by the idea that he got to see someone so promising rise to power. Shirakawa-sensei's hawk-eyed attention consistently locked onto Hikaru was understandable for this reason.

 _He'll keep getting stronger,_  Honda thought.  _So I should keep playing against him for as long as I can if I want to get any better._

"Do you want to discuss the game?" Hikaru asked. A polite, well-mannered smile met Honda's eyes. Hikaru was composed when seated at the goban, doubts melting away from his shoulders to become the shroud of shadows plastered to the ground behind him. Whatever he may say away from the goban, no matter how he acted before he took his place across from his opponent, whoever he was any moment he wasn't playing - that all fell away once the game started.

" _He's a monster,"_  Uchida had muttered, her hands shaking and her head bowed in defeat.

Honda agreed with the sentiment. Awe inspired terror, and envy multiplied that terror a hundredfold. If someone climbed so quickly with not even a whisper of that strength being seen in any capacity before, it was natural to fear that kind of power. Touya Akira at least had the reputation beforehand, as well as the tournament credentials; Fujiwara Hikaru had slipped in with no one the wiser and cut down his opponents before they even understood what was happening.

But Honda - he  _liked_ monsters.

"Maybe later," the older boy waved off, starting to clear the board. Hikaru had a very keen memory and would be more than able to recreate it, even a week later. "I don't think I have enough candy on me to heal my wounded pride if we did it now."

Hikaru cocked his head to the side, curious but amused. He reminded Honda of the cat that wandered about his neighborhood; a capricious, unfriendly furball that tore into birds and other opportunistic meals frequently as if to gorge itself. It seemed that the more Hikaru learned about the people in his vicinity, the better he felt. Honda knew knowledge was the key to power but for some reason, Hikaru had chosen to observe his classmates carefully in order to better emulate them.

This was a silly thing to do, in Honda's opinion - why on earth would anyone want to copy Waya? (At least Hikaru had the presence of mind not to incorporate the more unsavory elements of their class, like Mashiba.) And it wasn't as if the younger boy was any good at mimicking the likes of Waya and Isumi; his mannerisms were more alike to Nase and the personality he took on when discussing games was too rambunctious to be anyone  _but_ Hikaru.

Isumi had mentioned that the blond-banged boy was likely just testing the waters, as according to Kishimoto - Honda still can't believe Isumi even keeps in contact with the weirdo - Hikaru had a bad habit of assuming the worst about the people around him and himself. He probably just didn't know how to act accordingly in this type of environment, which Honda could understand - with Shirakawa-sensei as the instructor and with people like Waya in the upper tier of Class A, whatever regal image they may have possessed was shattered.

 _Not that I'm any better,_  Honda mused in good humor.

"I've been meaning to ask you," Hikaru hedged slowly, eyes on the fourth lollipop he'd seen Honda procure in the past hour alone. "How do you get away with eating in here? I thought food and drink were banned in the study areas."

Honda hummed noncommittally, sticking the lollipop into his mouth as he mulled over the question. "Well, you could say Shirakawa-sensei owes me? So he turns a blind eye on it… It's not like I'm making a mess or anything."

Hikaru blinked in surprise. "He  _owes_ you?"

Honda nodded, expression reserved. He leaned over the board in a conspiratorial fashion, voice low and even as he continued. "You can't tell anyone, but awhile ago I found Shirakawa-sensei sleeping in a tent in the middle of the woods. He was  _homeless_."

Hikaru's eyes widened, his body stilling. The man that controlled the insei institute had been as destitute as the likes of Rizumu? It was a hard thing to picture; the man always looked so comfortable in his station of life, imagining anything besides Shirakawa in total control of his surroundings felt unreal.

"The last member of his family had died in a car accident and he was left with nowhere to go," Honda said quietly. "I was walking back with my older cousin at the time when we stumbled across him, and he invited Shirakawa-sensei to stay with us."

"That was nice of him," Hikaru said uncomfortably.  _That_ hit a bit too close to home for him.

Honda shrugged, nonchalant. "In truth, we were just too lazy to do any housework. So in exchange for doing the chores, Shirakawa-sensei could stay for free. It wasn't that big of a deal until my cousin came crashing in, looking to fight me..."

"In exchange for housework?" Hikaru had echoed, sounding almost eager. Honda stared back at the boy, bemused; that wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting his captive audience to latch onto.  _Just another oddity of Fujiwara Hikaru,_  Honda inwardly snorted.

"Anyway, you can't tell anyone. This was years ago and sensei is still so embarrassed over it," Honda persisted. "He still can't take pickles in his curry because that was the only dinner my cousin could make. I guess being an award-winning author means nothing in the kitchen…"

Hikaru only nodded. "Yeah, I can see that."

Honda wondered if that agreement stemmed from the issue of embarrassment or whether Hikaru had indeed suffered the horrors of pickles in curry. The younger boy sure didn't look inclined to clarifying.

Honda hid a snicker, pulling out a couple of hard caramels and dropping them onto the goban. Shirakawa-sensei looked up from across the room at the sound, glaring at Honda with an unimpressed look but saying nothing. Honda didn't bother to acknowledge the look, instead winking cheekily at Hikaru as the younger boy took this as verification of their relationship.

"For you," Honda pushed. He stood from his spot, Hikaru following suit after stashing the candies into his pocket. Just because Honda gave them to him didn't mean he had the same protection from Shirakawa-sensei and he wasn't going to risk angering the terrifying instructor.

He didn't need to worry over Shirakawa-sensei's pensive look, as Waya took that moment to enter the classroom. Honda exited with a little smirk, Waya none the wiser as Shirakawa's attention shifted to the lackadaisical teen.

Hikaru, with the most casual air he could muster, took a few steps back and to the side. This conveniently placed him close enough to the bookshelf lined with study materials, leaving him looking almost innocuous as he silently perused the titles and waited for the other shoe to drop. While he greatly appreciated Waya treating him like a friend, especially despite his initial reluctance, that didn't mean he was going to foolishly walk down the wolf's throat with him.

"Waya-kun," Shirakawa-sensei purred with a menacing smile, slinking up from where he had been examining one of the more damaged Go boards. Isumi, who had been standing closest to the entryway, easily outpaced his friend and was across the room in a few quick strides. Hikaru envied the older boy's ability - was it because Isumi's legs were so damn long?

"Good afternoon, sensei," Waya gritted out politely. The glance he shot both Isumi and Hikaru spoke of betrayal. Isumi looked away guiltily but made no move to distract their teacher while Hikaru focused pointedly on the Honinbou Shuusaku book clasped in his hands.

"You're later than expected. Perhaps you think you don't need to bother with punctuality if it's just the insei class?" Shirakawa-sensei mused aloud, sounding exaggeratedly thoughtful and concerned. Hikaru wasn't looking up but he knew Waya was matching that falsely-sympathetic expression with a horrified one. "Maybe I should talk to Morishita-sensei about how easy this class is for you…"

"No!" Waya replied desperately. "I'm learning a lot, I'm even learning right now!"

He speedily went to the closest person - Hikaru - and grabbed hold of his sleeve, tugging him forward to display as physical evidence. "Fujiwara and I study plenty together! We even studied last night!" Waya tossed out.

Shirakawa's eyes flashed. "Is that so? Because I seem to remember receiving a call from Morishita-sensei last night complaining about your ability to eat him out of house and home." Waya turned pale, his frenzied mind suddenly recalling how he had spent most of the evening at his teacher's place last night for extra tutoring. While the idea itself was meritable, the fact that he'd (reflexively) lied to Shirakawa was sure to gain some unwanted attention.

"He called  _you…_?" Waya choked out instead.

Shirakawa-sensei frowned. "I am  _in_ your study group, you simpleton!"

 _Smooth, Waya_ , Hikaru thought critically. Considering that he was still trapped within the older boy's hold - Isumi really wasn't kidding, Waya was pretty handsy - Hikaru decided he may as well do what he can to pry his fellow insei out of the sticky situation.

"That wasn't even a study session-" Waya started defensively.

Shirakawa grinned, a predator through and through. "I have eyes and ears all over the place. Best remember that, Waya-kun~!"

From what Hikaru had gathered from past interactions with Shirakawa-sensei and from what he's observed, the man was a natural-born politician with an easy smile and cruel tongue. He presented the proper image to those he had little to no power over, a master of the honey-and-vinegar method that would have made him more dangerous in a profession that didn't involve a board game.

Shirakawa was also quite fond of teaching, although Hikaru had yet to discern if that was because the man enjoyed the feeling of being levels above those he taught or he just liked to see what he could mold. Either way, it was an unnervingly powerful position that Shirakawa was well aware of and appreciated.

"Study group?" Hikaru piped up, pulling on what he felt to be an adequately puzzled expression. Shirakawa and Waya immediately had their attention on him, and Hikaru wasn't too surprised to see that they were equally bemused by his interruption.  _Probably forgot I was here,_  Hikaru inferred. "What is that? You guys get together and...study Go?"

Waya blinked. "Of course. Why do you sound so confused?"

Hikaru flushed.  _I'm still new to this whole Go-playing-career thing, you jerk!_  "Well, I mean, don't you usually form study groups with people on your own level? Shirakawa-sensei is our instructor, so…"

"Study groups are commonly held under a high-ranking player," Shirakawa explained, his lecturing tone audible. Only the fact that Hikaru had heard about his troubled background softened his usually reflexive acidic response. "For both myself and Waya, we are apprenticed under Morishita ninth-dan. Those in the study group generally just fall under that rank, which is why you have myself - a seventh-dan - and an insei like Fluffy here."

"Did you just call me  _Fluffy!"_   Waya screeched.

"Study groups are invite-only, though, so you either have to have a member of that study group introduce you or get the attention of the mentor," Shirakawa continued on blithely, utterly ignoring Waya's outburst. Hikaru wondered if this was how the man bragged but his tone didn't sound arrogant, just matter-of-fact. Still, whoever this Morishita was, Hikaru was starting to feel sorry for him; a viper like Shirakawa mixed with the spitfire Waya seems like an explosive combination to have, and for a  _study group_  no less.

"Not that you are in need of joining a study group," Shirakawa's smile was starting to morph into his customary smirk again. Hikaru steeled himself; the man caused trouble just for the thrill of it. Who had let this tyrant run the insei school and  _why_ would they continue to inflict him on future generations? "I'm certain Ogata ninth-dan is more than enough in terms of studying."

Hikaru could hear the man's laughing tone. He seemed to be the only one, though, as Waya whipped around with a look that was moderately impressed. Hikaru didn't really understand the boy's reaction; from what he'd gleaned, Waya's own teacher was of equal ranking. Ogata couldn't be that odd of an occurrence.

"Isn't Ogata-sensei really... _intense_?" Waya asked, the restraint on the last word making it sound like it should have been something more severe.

Hikaru cracked a grin. "If by 'intense' you mean he's 'a vitriolic, condescending jerk with a hidden masochistic streak', then yes. He's definitely that."

Shirakawa looked pleased, obviously finding Hikaru's vaguely-disparaging remarks to be more along his own viewpoint. (That disturbed Hikaru slightly because he was sure he didn't want to mirror the man's personality in any shape or form.) Waya was taken-aback but Isumi had taken the pause in conversation as a cue to rescue Waya from himself, pulling the younger boy towards a goban as Hikaru hurried away to get out of Shirakawa's immediate vicinity.

"If you think this is really over, you have another thing coming~!" Shirakawa-sensei promised lightly, leaving the classroom with a smile that promised vengeance.

Nase and Fukui took this moment to disengage from their totally passionate, not-at-all-staged discussion of their game, craning around to give Waya similar looks of patronization. The rest of the insei (sans Honda, who was likely still downstairs by the vending machines) turned their attention away from Waya as if scared they would get caught up in Shirakawa's retribution.

"You really need to stop antagonizing Shirakawa-sensei, Waya," Nase chided. "Now you're even dragging Fujiwara down with you."

"I am not! Shirakawa-sensei likes him because he's Ogata ninth-dan's student!" Waya snapped back. It was a credible defense; Shirakawa picked on Waya because they shared the same Go teacher, and he obsessed over Hikaru because his teacher was known friend of the insei instructor.

 _Sai would be crying right about now,_  Hikaru thought idly. "Shirakawa-sensei  _does_ seem to like terrorizing Ogata-san," he contributed.

Isumi perked up noticeably, peering at the blond-banged boy with thoughtful eyes. "Ogata ninth-dan is your teacher?"

That would be quite odd, because from what Isumi had gleaned from Hikaru's games, the boy's playing style was nothing like Ogata ninth-dan's style. The man could be aggressive on the Go board but Hikaru's was aggressive and bewildering; careful planning was mixed with surprising hands that were starting to work out more frequently than before. Some of those hands had seemed familiar, but he'd attributed that to whatever Hikaru's obsession was with Honinbou Shuusaku, as the boy's attention often lingered over the famed Go player's books.

"Uh oh, Isumi-san's fanboy tendencies are showing," Nase mused as she passed, heading towards one of the free gobans to recreate her last game against Shirakawa-sensei.

"Fanboy?" Hikaru echoed dubiously.

Isumi was flushed bright red at this point. "I'm not a fanboy, I just appreciate Ogata-sensei's skills!" he insisted. While Waya was known for his devotion to the likes of Fujiwara Meijin, Isumi had instead been impressed by the likes of Ogata ninth-dan. The man was cool and composed, always ready with a look of confidence that could send his opponents into panicked fits. Isumi appreciated that confidence more than anything else as it was something he severely lacked.

"I never would have figured he was your type," Hikaru commented. Nase stifled an inappropriate laugh, not noticing the way Hikaru's eyes tightened at the corners in a flicker of regret. He hadn't meant for the poor phrasing to be indicative of a double entendre.

"He's a very respectable Go player," Isumi said defensively, ignorant of any other implications.

Hikaru nodded, smile vacant. "He's a very good player, yeah," he agreed openly. He turned his attention back to the study materials with an open smirk. "Just kind of an asshole too."

"I see respect isn't high up there on his student-teacher relationship credentials," Nase teased.

Hikaru shrugged. "He's around often enough but he's not really my teacher."

"Then who is?" Fukui asked curiously. "Did you learn from a family member?"

Hikaru's look turned shuttered, his smile grim. "Someone like that."

* * *

"Oi, Touya-kun! Kishimoto-senpai is at the door for you!"

Akira looked up, mildly surprised at his classmate's call. Sure enough though, Kaio's Go club captain stood at the door with a taciturn expression, eyes rested on Akira himself. The younger boy had not even begun to pull out his lunch, so he only left his bentou at his desk as he rose and walked over to greet the upperclassman.

"Bring your lunch, we're having this conversation in private," Kishimoto ordered imperially.

Akira inwardly sighed at the tone. He wondered if Kishimoto had always been such a tyrant but, in retrospect, he realized he didn't know very much about the older boy besides the most basic of facts. From further exposure and interaction, Akira could see that Kaio's First Board was far more eccentric than his studious looks had suggested.

Getting his lunch and following the older boy down the hallways, Akira allowed himself to be lead up the stairs and to the roof of their school building. He hesitated only briefly as they passed a 'No Students Beyond This Point' sign, having felt challenged by Kishimoto's derogatory gaze when Akira slowed down at the juncture.

"As captain of a school club, shouldn't you follow the school rules?" Akira asked quietly, keeping his tone polite.

Kishimoto snorted, "I need fresh air to think and I don't want any of those gossipmongers to overhear us."

They paused at the padlocked door, Kishimoto reaching into his pocket in order to pull out a couple small tools. Within a minute he had picked the lock and ignored Akira's vaguely scandalized expression with professional ease, none too gently pushing the younger boy forward and into the open air of the rooftop.

"You need to learn some life skills, Touya-kun," Kishimoto lectured airily.

 _Should I start hotwiring cars?_  Akira thought, more irritated by the tone than the suggestion.

Kishimoto closed the door quietly, padlock left by the frame so that they wouldn't be locked out should someone stumble up the steps. He took a seat against the wall, placing the plastic bag of his school lunch next to him and motioning for Akira to join him.

"What did you want to talk about?" Akira asked politely, taking a seat next to him.

Kishimoto pulled out a dolled-up package of cookies from the bag, handing it over to Akira without an explanation but shooting the beginner-dan an irritated look when he didn't immediately take it. Akira allowed it to be placed in his hands, openly staring at the pastel shade of purple and the ornamental white bow that kept the bag closed.

"We made gingersnap cookies in HomeEc today," Kishimoto shrugged off blandly. "I don't like gingersnap so you can have them."

Akira was still staring at the present.  _Why...Why is he so good at this…_

"A man should have a variety of skills, Touya-kun," Kishimoto reprimanded lightly.

Akira managed out a strangled, "Yes, of course, you're right."

Kishimoto nodded once decisively, pulling out a hamburger steak sandwich and politely waiting for Akira to get over the cookies and set out his own bentou. Once the Go pro had set his present to the side and finally pulled out his lunch, Kishimoto took a few bites, eyes meandering the length of the chainlink fence that kept the roof area secure.

"Did you ever hear the reason why the rooftop is off-limits?" Kishimoto finally asked, once Akira had finally begun to dig into his own lunch. The freshman shook his head, eyes on his upperclassman and now hesitant to take another bite.

"You can keep eating, I'm just going to talk at you for awhile," Kishimoto waved off. He flashed a satisfied smirk at the young pro once he finally started eating again. He began with a quiet sort of veneer, taking on a passive tone as he recounted. "It's actually a rather recent rule. It was started in my second year."

Kishimoto took a bite of his meal robotically, chewed it, and swallowed. His eyes were distant as he recalled the events that had been smeared across Kaio's history and shadowed Kishimoto's class with every conversation they never had. It was easier to ignore than to acknowledge, and how could anyone expect a group of kids to cope and deal with it by themselves?

Kishimoto wondered at their weakness. "It was after a freshman boy committed suicide by jumping off the roof. His name was Sakurai Takahiko; he was a member of the Go club."

For a long moment, Kishimoto said nothing. He stared evenly at the fence. It, too, was a new addition - Kaio's sad attempt at saving face so that no more of their students painted the walls red with bloodsplatter.

"Was he a friend?" Akira ventured quietly.

Kishimoto smiled without humor. "No. We never spoke. All I remember about Sakurai from club meetings is him standing off to the side, reading over the study materials. He didn't play games often, and when he did he always lost."

Kishimoto wrapped his sandwich back up in its paper. He never could finish his food. He made a note to get a croissant later when he purchased his coffee.

"The school blamed his parents and his parents blamed the school. But the students - we all knew why. He was being bullied," Kishimoto continued. A bird landed on the fence, head twisting this way and that. It was blind in one eye. "The bullies were a small group of boys in his homeroom. They didn't hurt him every day but the fear had already been planted, and fear has a tendency to leech and grow. It was enough."

And what had any of them done to stop it? The sense of community his teachers attempted to foster meant little in the face of any aberration. No one would stick up for Sakurai. To be a part of the community, that meant doing little to dissuade; it was better to keep to yourself than intervene in affairs beyond you. Kishimoto could lambast as much as he wanted but when the moment came - would he still do so even if it meant finally being on the receiving end?

The fear was enough because people like him had enabled it to do so.

"There's a zero-tolerance policy about bullying here," Akira realized.

Kishimoto's look turned wry. "Officially.  _Officially_ , a lot of things aren't supposed to happen." He finally turned to look at his underclassman, matching the younger boy's tentative stare with his own certain one. "But that never really stops them from happening, Touya-kun."

Touya Akira was a prodigious Go player. He came from a noteworthy background, he had impeccable poise and maturity for someone so young, and he was a force to be reckoned with when it came to Go.

The world was not confined to Go, however, and neither were the relationships between people. Touya Akira was more than just a professional Go player and son of the former Meijin: he was Kishimoto's underclassman, he was a freshman student isolated from his peers, he was quiet and unused to social contact if a goban wasn't involved in some way.

He was remarkably pure. It had  _hurt_ , the first time Kishimoto had noticed it. Akira's world revolved around Go and that was it; everything he lived and breathed by was the board game. It was astonishing and the passion was inspiring, but it limited Akira in ways he had yet to realize.

Life was the look on Hidaka's face the first time Kishimoto had kissed her; it was the patience with which Yun-sensei taught; it was the cold onigiri left wrapped in his home fridge; it was the humble words that Tsutsui spoke with as fire raged in his eyes; it was the blood that had come gushing out of Sakurai's crushed frontal lobe; it was the taste of coffee in the morning; it was Hikaru's free touch and haunted eyes.

Go was life to the boy - but life was so much more than stones on kaya wood. It was something so miserable that children their age would throw it away, it was so wonderful that people fought to keep it, it was beautiful and horrible, both a tragedy and a miracle.

Touya Akira was pure and  _suffocating_.

"You should try and become someone stronger," Kishimoto advised quietly. "I just hope you realize that strength itself is not confined to the physical reality or the goban."

* * *

Rhythmic pounding of the wooden spatula against the cutting board was audible for several long minutes, all in which Ogata didn't bother to turn around. He was cutting the leeks and garlic into acceptable size at the moment and couldn't spare his attention. The pounding finally subsided, allowing the soft tones of the radio playing jazz - who had picked that? - to finally filter in.

"I'm done mashing them," Hikaru piped up. "Now what do I do?"

"Did you add the salt and pepper?" Ogata asked without turning around.

A pause, a shuffle of movement, then a cheerful "Yeah!"

Ogata glanced back over his shoulder. "I've already diced the onion for you. Fry it in oil first, then add the chicken."

Hikaru shuffled over to the stovetop. "How much oil?"

"Enough to fry the vegetables without burning them but not too much so that we have to drink it."

There was an agreeable humming noise. A few minutes passed, in which the clattering of pans and the stovetop flaring to life interrupted the jazz melody. Ogata finally finished up with cutting the vegetables and fruits, then turned to join Hikaru at the stove. His own pan was next to Hikaru's frying concoction, quietly bubbling away and nearly opaque with bone fat. From prior experience, he knew it'd need about another hour.

"Did I ever tell you about the time Sai managed to burn vegetables while boiling them?" Hikaru asked casually.

Ogata smirked, unaccountably amused. "He's a natural at impossible things."

The boy laughed lightly. Ogata added the chicken to the wok, along with some more seasoning. Hikaru watched him with sharp eyes as if to memorize the exact amount silently.

"How are your insei classes going?" Ogata asked. It sounded awkward, even to him.

The look on Hikaru's face clearly screamed ' _are we really going to do this?_ ' but surprisingly, what came out of his mouth was a polite (and slightly strangled) "Good, I guess. I'm in Class A now."

Ogata, of course, already knew about Hikaru's quick rise to the top insei class; Sai had been chirping incessantly about it for over a week now and shooting off enough sparkles that even Ashiwara was having a hard time maintaining direct eye contact. The amount of smugness was only doubled by Akira, which was odd because Hikaru had not mentioned hanging out with the beginner-dan recently. Then again, Ogata had half a mind to believe that Akira and Shirakawa were conspiring together to better improve Hikaru's playing, which was enough of a mental image to make Ogata queasy.

 _I should probably mention something to Akiko-san soon_ , Ogata thought. He already knew he was lying to himself.

"Getting along with the other kids?" Ogata continued. He tried to interject a tone of condescension in there, which was easy enough to do; insei in particular always managed to rile up his patronizing side.

Hikaru visibly bristled but remarkably kept his tone calm and even. "Yeah, we even hang out sometimes."

"Do you go shopping with them?" Ogata asked curiously. "I notice your style has changed."

At this, Hikaru subtly turned away - a marker of distance, the visible evidence of his attempt to hide something. Ogata's attention sharpened, keen-eyed and watching Sai's student closey. He knew something had been wrong with the kid for awhile now, it was just hard to pinpoint what outside of Hikaru's usual issues. This new development was alarming because both men had been able to see that, in some way, Hikaru was backtracking.

"Yeah, well, you know -  _insei_..." Hikaru deflected readily. "I needed a different look."

Needed - not wanted.

Ogata allowed them to fall back into silence, contemplating this admission. Hikaru had acquired new information recently: he now belonged to the insei class, Sai was the Meijin, and he was Sai's only student. Taking into account the value of perception, which was something Ogata was used to manipulating and Hikaru was used to dealing in, then this entire shift in attitude and even fashion style was the kid's attempt at following what people would perceive as an appropriate student for Sai.

Hikaru was attempting to change into someone that other people would think Sai's ideal student would be. It should have been an unsurprising and expected reaction of the boy, but Ogata knew both he and Sai had foolishly never considered it. It was also incredibly harmful; Hikaru had enough self-worth issues already, adding on this paradigm of 'Sai's ideal student' would break him.

Ogata sincerely hoped Akira had nothing to do with it. Given that Hikaru was wearing khaki pants, a pale blue collared shirt, and a nondescript dark brown sweater - he looked like an Akira with better color-coordination.

Ogata would have to tell Sai tonight. This was a heart-to-heart thing that Sai himself would have to personally deal with it, considering that Hikaru was trying to fit some falsified image of Sai's perfect student. Sai didn't have a mental image of the perfect student or perfect child; as far as Ogata knew, Sai adored Hikaru - every broken and crooked piece of him.

"It doesn't suit you at all," Ogata stated bluntly. Hikaru's head whipped around to stare up at him, surprised. Nothing about this restrained, bland image suited Hikaru - he was far more than that. He was caustic and thorny, rang out with more hollow compliments and sarcastic assents than subdued acquiescence. He wrapped his truths in insults and his fake smiles were nearly always teasing because the real ones were small and painful and  _alive_.

This colorless mockery was unbefitting of Sai's precious charge.

Ogata spotted the hairclip left atop the counter; it was fake pearls lined intermittently into the golden wire, artistic and needlessly decadent. God knows where Hikaru had bought it from or how he'd managed to do so with a straight face, but it was definitively welcome sight to Ogata now. He picked it up, carefully opening it so that this cheap, gaudy thing would not break in his hands.

Hikaru watched him approach with wide eyes, distinctly unbelieving. Ogata from a year ago would be just as shocked, but the Ogata now was a different man. The person who had wormed his way into a child's life, even if his first intentions for doing so had been anything but benign, did not leave such an interaction without some change. People changed because of other people, indirectly or not - this was merely another facet of life.

Ogata swept up as much of the blond bangs as he could - they were getting ridiculously long now, he'd cut it himself if Hikaru wasn't up for a visit to the hair salon soon - and to the side, sliding the clip into place and securing them out of the way from those wide green eyes.

Ogata matched that bewildered look with a serious one. "Much better," he nodded decisively.

Then he flicked Hikaru in the forehead and curtly pointed out his chicken was burning.

* * *

"What were you and Fujiwara talking about so fervidly yesterday?"

Honda grinned, brazen in his attitude despite being addressed by the intimidating man. Shirakawa had caught the boy alone by the vending machines again, as the brat always ended up purchasing some sugary swill to drink after being at the institute for over an hour. Shirakawa inwardly acknowledged that while the confidence would no doubt filter down well into the boy's gameplay, it also meant Honda became a bit too comfortable with his place here.

 _I spoiled him_ , Shirakawa acknowledged.  _Troublesome child._

"Oh, nothing much," Honda shrugged off cheerfully. "Although I think I may have gotten him to believe that we are the starting chapter of Fruits Basket."

" _What_." Shirakawa's dry tone said it all.

Honda nodded, grin growing. "I guess I can't talk about manga with him. I was hoping that would be his thing, though, especially with the way he dresses."

"Just because he has a decent fashion sense doesn't make him a cosplay model," Shirakawa reprimanded. "You really fed him some tripe background story?"

Honda frowned exaggeratedly. "How was I supposed to know he wouldn't pick up on it? I even made it so obvious, I stopped just short of saying I turned into a rat because of the zodiac curse."

Shirakawa sighed. "And here I was hoping you would talk about something more important."

"Aw, come on, it was cute. I even made you Tohru when clearly that should have been me. If anything, you're probably Akito."

Shirakawa twitched. "Don't be impertinent, Toshinori."

Honda snickered. "Sorry, sorry! It's funny that you're so interested though," he admitted. "He's really good so I'm not that surprised."

Shirakawa smiled wolfishly. "I'll make sure the whole lot of you are up to par. Maybe the shockwaves your entry will send out will rejuvenate how boring the scene is currently."

 _Ah, so you want to cause a stir,_  Honda deduced. _And now you've found the key to that._

"No wonder you're starting to get so many calls from Touya Akira," Honda mused. "I wonder how many little birds are already chirping about this."

Shirakawa frowned. "Far more than you should know about," he said. "And how did you know about Touya's calls?"

"Saw your call log," Honda answered blithely.

"Stop stealing my phone whenever you feel like it!"

"Technically it's borrowing," Honda pointed out. "...how did you know about Fujiwara? There's nothing about him anywhere: no tournament records, no club records, nothing. I looked but there was only smoke."

Shirakawa smiled. "Perhaps you're looking in the wrong direction. Not everything has to be based off a trail of awards." He leaned forward, voice lowering to make sure they were not overheard. Honda Toshinori, Shirakawa knew well enough, could be trusted with most anything. "Sometimes the only thing you need to know is a name."

He waited a moment as Honda visibly tried to connect the dots. The boy was troublesome and some of his habits were still mired in the delinquency he had yet to cast off, but there was no denying Honda was  _brilliant_. This was no more obvious in the way recognition dawned in those dark eyes, understanding sweeping over his features in awe.

Hikaru was obvious, it was just that people were unwilling to believe. A fixation on Honinbou Shuusaku, a connection to Ogata Seiji, and a frightening amount of talent to be sculpted? He couldn't have been a more conspicuous choice of student if he tried.

" _Fujiwara_ ," Honda breathed out.

Shirakawa laughed. "Amazing, isn't it? Monsters really do breed other monsters."

* * *

"Nase, what do you think of Fujiwara?"

It was obvious Isumi was uncomfortable to even be asking such a question, having avoided a direct look at the girl next to him and shifting just slightly from one foot to the other. He knew that it was inappropriate to be talking about someone when they weren't even there, and he knew this invite for the girl's opinion could be misconstrued as gossip behind their friend's back. But still, something nagged at the back of his mind whenever they spent time with Hikaru; something in the boy's behavior was off even if Isumi couldn't place what.

Asking Waya or Honda would only be troublesome: the former would blow off his worries as inconsequential and rude, while the latter would only make up some story just to watch Isumi twitch. Fukui and Nase were more observant, however, and Nase in particular was one of the most mature kids in the insei class. Isumi could trust her judgment, for the most part.

"Fujiwara, huh?" Nase echoed thoughtfully. She stood pretty as she pleased in a floral, ruffled sundress and jean jacket. Standing together near the subway station exit, they made a cute couple - at least according to a few older passers-by who deigned to comment. Isumi had blushed and stammered out his correction as Nase visibly preened.

"His fashion sense is so much better than our's," she stated after a moment, completely serious.

Isumi nearly buckled, giving the girl a baffled look when she only flashed him a small smirk. With a sigh, he spared a moment to regret not inviting Fukui out on this venture instead; at least the younger boy would take him seriously.

Nase chuckled at his expense, before with a small shrug of her shoulders, she turned her attention back to the sidewalk. "Well, he's a very good Go player. So much so that it's almost  _scary_."

Isumi nodded. He definitely understood that sentiment; just a few weeks ago Hikaru had climbed his way into Class A. Now he was even beating Isumi in their practice matches, outpacing him by maybe a dozen hands ahead. Sometimes Isumi would gain the advantage, Hikaru having not yet perfected his hand in yose or getting sloppy while defending - but the potential was there. The blond-banged boy hadn't stopped evolving, had yet to stagnate at all in his learning so that with every game he grew stronger.

Honda had mused that perhaps Ogata-sensei had really struck gold with finding this student, that the man was a curiously good teacher despite his vitriolic attitude. Despite Hikaru saying that Ogata was not his teacher, it was hard to believe it with the sheer amount of talent the boy possessed - what kind of Go player would pass off mentoring such a student? Shirakawa's close attention was obvious as well, an ever-present shadow whenever Hikaru played a ranking match.

"He's strong," Isumi agreed. It was an undeniable truth.

Nase grinned. "But that's not what you're really asking about, is it?"

Isumi nodded, once again shifting slightly.

Waya was touchy-feely, casual despite their age difference no matter what suffix he used to address Isumi. Waya was comfortable in his skin and with who he was, even if that didn't extend to his strength in the game.

Hikaru, though, was different. It wasn't noticeable at first; his touches were similar to Waya's, fleeting and casual with no other meaning despite a show of friendliness. It was not as if his fingers lingered, unlike his eyes: they would trail from Isumi's hands to his face but avoided his eyes, as if meeting the older boy's look would divulge some secret guilt. There was something distinct in the way Hikaru carried himself, as if he wore his skin like one does a costume - not altogether unusual for kids growing up, bodies adjusting through puberty. But Hikaru and his fleeting touches were unusual in that he gave them too easily yet looked as if he were sick of himself for doing so. There was something about himself Hikaru was not comfortable with, and whatever it was, it hung about the boy and sought comfort from the close proximity of those around him.

Hikaru sought contact because it was the only source of comfort he understood, and he seemingly  _hated_ himself for it.

"He's surprisingly crude for someone who behaves so tactfully at the institute," Nase mused aloud. Her tone conveyed it was without serious thought, the smile never leaving her lips. It was a dangerous look on the girl because it meant she had given Fujiwara Hikaru due thought and had reached a decisive conclusion herself. "He'll take advantage of you if you let him but he won't pick on you for your weaknesses. He's not cruel, but he's cunning and he knows how to use those around him."

Isumi cocked his head, eyes doubtful. "You make him sound like Shirakawa-sensei," he pointed out dubiously.

Nase shook her head. "Shirakawa-sensei is manipulative with a healthy -  _too healthy_  - sadistic streak, but he does it for the greater benefit for both himself and those under him. Fujiwara… I don't think he really knows what he's doing, he just thinks he  _has_ to set up a security measure for himself."

The girl straightened the cuffs of her jacket boredly. "If anything, I'd say he's scared. I don't know of what or why, but Isumi-san - I don't really think it's any of our business."

Isumi blew out a breath, staring past the crowds on the sidewalk. He could name a few dozen reasons why they should care just off the top of his head but he kept the words at bay. This was Nase's view, her assertion and her right; if she truly believed nothing could be gained from further analyzing their friend, then there was nothing more she would contribute.

"Even though he's our friend?" Isumi asked.

Nase snorted. "You can't hope to understand  _everyone_."

Isumi frowned. Nase was painfully honest when it came to her observations, frank to such a degree that it was hard just to have a conversation with the girl that didn't leave her partner wincing. Honesty, though an admirable trait, was not one that was so keenly observed in Isumi's life; it was much better to lie and keep the wool over one's eyes, preserve the world as a beautiful, mysterious place.

Nase did not share this sentiment and the older boy was fairly sure she never had. Her honesty was her greatest strength but she wielded it so carelessly that she inevitably hurt others more than she helped them, so it must be of some consolation to the girl that she never cared much for mayweather friends in the first place. Still, sometimes the blunt truth she espoused came across more as belligerent idiocy or tactless cruelty, so Isumi was hardly going to emulate her.

"Isumi-san, do you ever play on NetGo?" Nase asked. It was a sudden turn in conversation, leaving the older boy blinking in surprise.

"...No," Isumi finally responded tentatively. He'd always preferred games face-to-face, because despite his lack of confidence there was something comforting in knowing and seeing the flesh and blood of his opponent. NetGo and other internet forums lacked the human connection Isumi desired.

"You should visit it sometime, or at least read some of the forums," Nase advised casually. "It's gotten pretty interesting recently."

Isumi's unimpressed look wasn't insulting, merely bored. "I think I heard Waya saying some of the pros went on there. It would be worth checking out."  _At some point in the future. Maybe_.

"Sometimes the interesting things aren't the pros. Although you do learn - a lot." Nase's smile was challenging, the look in her eyes laughing at a joke only she understood. "Like the importance of wisteria."

Having finally caught sight of the person they'd been waiting for, Isumi couldn't respond. Hikaru was maneuvering his way around the crowds that were exiting the station, smiling and waving at the pair as he made his way towards them. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, with a black button-up shirt left open to reveal a nondescript dark grey shirt underneath. A floral mix of red, white, and light pink flowers were printed on the collared shirt's chest and shoulder areas, matching the white chrysanthemum hair clips keeping his bangs to the side.

"Sorry I'm late," Hikaru gasped out once he'd reached them. "Ogata-sensei refused to let me leave until- uh, until I finished this tsumego problem."

It was an obvious lie but neither of them were going to point it out. Hikaru just really didn't want to explain that Ogata had essentially called him out on acting so unlike himself and then refused to let him leave until he'd returned to some of his normal flair. This had led to the strangest half hour of his life, in which Ogata grilled him on looking presentable for an afternoon out with his friends.

 _As if I would trust the fashion advice of someone who owns that many white suits,_  Hikaru thought derisively. Ogata may dress better than Sai in terms of casual wear, but that didn't mean the man was exactly a fashion icon.

"We should eat first," Nase suggested brightly.

Isumi's lips twitched up in a smile, "Didn't you say you just ate lunch-?"

Nase casually elbowed the older boy in the stomach, carefree grin on her lips as her eyes afixed on Hikaru brightly. The bond-banged boy wisely agreed with her, taking a hasty step back just to be sure. Isumi had one hand rubbing over his abused ribs with a weak smile, keeping silent as Nase cheerfully claimed to a know "a really good sandwich place around here!"

* * *

Sai was pacing about his apartment under Ogata's severe eyes, which for them was starting to become an unfortunately common occurrence. Luckily it was Saturday, which meant Hikaru would get to come home to a frantically-trying-to-comfort Sai and then wake up on Sunday to be subjected to Shirakawa's questionable mercies. Unintentional or not, with Sai and Shirakawa's influence always in subsequent sets, Hikaru's go and his confidence in his play was improving. However, this didn't necessarily translate into other matters - as Sai found out.

"He's backtracking," Sai said. He spat it out like poison, wringing his hands in his distress. "Of course he would think something like this! Why didn't it occur to me before?"

"You had other things to think about," Ogata reasoned out. "You can't expect yourself to reach the same conclusions he does, especially with how differently both of you think."

Sai's arms crossed in front of his chest, a defensive gesture highlighted by the frown on his lips. He looked equal parts regretful and furious; undoubtedly he would not forgive himself for letting Hikaru slide back into such thinking.

"There can be no excuse," Sai said decisively. "But my blunders aside, I need to focus on fixing this. You said he implied he wanted to change into - what? My 'perfect student'?" The Meijin spat out the last two words in disgust.

Ogata nodded, still displeased with how quick Sai was to blame himself. He privately believed the only blame to be had here were the culprits who had a hand in destroying Hikaru's sense of self-worth, definitely not the boy himself or Sai. He mentally noted to bring up this topic at a later date, preferably after Hikaru got this nonsense of becoming another Touya Akira out of his mind.

"What does he even think my perfect student would be like?" Sai mused, voice edging closer to distraught. It was bad enough having his father forcefully insert himself into the life Sai had spent so long meticulously building without him.  _Did he prompt Hikaru into this sort of thinking?_  Sai wondered, intense hatred for his father threading its way through his veins.

"Likely a smaller version of you," Ogata responded. "I think he's trying to emulate your wardrobe, at least enough for his tastes. It's also the reason he has yet to insult me or your cooking this week."

Sai's arms tightened, hands gripping his elbows in a show of aggravation. If the context had been different, many would see Hikaru's attitude shift as an improvement - a case could be made to say he was maturing. But this was backsliding, plain as day; for a boy so unsure of himself, this desire to change was not cultivated from a forward thought of the future but rather a desire to change into someone he wasn't for Sai's sake.

Perhaps the most toxic aspect of this backslide was that Hikaru had somehow gotten the idea that he was  _unworthy of Sai_. The very idea that his precious charge was changing because he was so scared of losing Sai's love was horrendous to the Meijin; that Hikaru could even think Sai's affections were so fleeting and false was an insult.

 _Not that he has much to compare to,_ Sai thought viciously. Between the tortures of the adults he'd once serviced to the neglect he'd suffered from his parents, Hikaru's desire to appeal to an adult shouldn't have been surprising. Sai may be proving to be different from every other adult figure in Hikaru's life, but that didn't mean the boy's desire to entreaty to them would change so quickly.

Sai sighed quietly. "I'll have to speak to him directly."

"He'll deny it," Ogata pointed out.

"Doubtlessly," Sai nodded. "But if I do not address it plainly, he will never understand. Not enough people have been honest with him."

Ogata was about to make a snarky comment about the over-inflated value of 'honesty' but figured that wouldn't exactly be well-received by his friend at the moment. He kept his mouth shut and merely watched as Sai paced a few steps here and there, likely planning out how the conversation with Hikaru would go.

"Should I stay over tonight?" the ninth-dan asked.

Sai paused, then shook his head. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I don't think this conversation will force him to leave."

The Meijin ignored his friend's low mutter of  _"And what kind of conversation forced him to break down a furniture store?"_  with the ringing of the doorbell. Sai turned, suspicion lining his posture; it was too early for Hikaru to have returned from his Go salon-hopping venture with his insei friends and Sai never received visitors outside of Ogata himself. If it was Kawai again, Sai really was going to start investing some deep thought into moving to a different country.

Peeking through the peephole did nothing more than get him a good view of a shoulder and shaggy auburn hair. Giving it another moment's thought, he opened the door a scant half a meter - before it was casually kicked open. Startled, Sai jumped back a step just as a figure emerged from around the doorframe, a curl of smoke from a lit cigarette denoting their entrance.

"Hey there," the boy - a teenager with a feral look to his eyes and a smirk on his lips - greeted boredly. "So you're Fujiwara Sai, huh? Didn't expect you to be so fucking  _pretty_."

Sai had frozen, violet eyes wide and close to gaping. Ogata had already leaped up from the seat of his couch, striding forward. The boy glanced at the ninth-dan with a criticizing look, sizing him up in an instant with nothing more than a small grin to show for it.

Sai was having trouble to calm his rapidly-beating heart. It was one thing to endure such a violent entrance - it was another to see it done by a familiar face. Which begged a few questions: why was  _Kaga Tetsuo_  in his apartment and how did he know who Sai was?

"You are-" Sai started, baffled.

Kaga cut him off with a sneer. " _Aian_ , if your brat ever bothered to mention me. But I'm actually here to drop something off - there's nowhere else for it, you see, so I guess you'll have to do."

A flash of russet brown hair and wide, cat-like eyes was all the warning Sai got as Kaga tugged forward what had been huddled behind him the entire time and shoved it forward into Sai's arms. The gesture was rough but not violent, meant to move rather than hurt.

"Just one more is all I can ask," Sai heard as Kaga backed away. "He'll die if he stays there. Tell Hikaru I'm sorry. He'll understand - but I'm sorry for that too."

Kaga disappeared around the doorway, closely followed by a surprised but furious Ogata. Their footsteps died down as they sped down the hallway and out of Sai's floor. The Meijin could not follow, righting the boy that had remained still and unresisting in his grasp.

In his arms, Mitani Yuuki stared back at him silently.

* * *

 **A/N** : Kaga,  _no!_

- **On Mitsuo and Shinya** : Shinya was mentioned in Chapter 6; he's Masaki's right-hand man and the ringleader of the drug circuit in the Gate. Mitsuo's group doesn't know that yet, though.

Mitsuo is just all kinds of obsessed with his son, to the point where it extends past love of family. I don't want to say it's incestuous, though, because Mitsuo is  _not sexually attracted to Sai._  It's just a very unhealthy relationship for completely different reasons.

-The exchange over Mitsuo's bird (Momo): Mitsuo routinely kills his own pets - they're not even always birds - and then justifies it by saying he wanted Sai to only see cute, lively things rather than aging pets dying from any other ailments.

- **On Shirakawa and Honda** : Their relationship is innocuous and not at all illicit. Just to clarify -  _not even the slightest bit romantic or sexual_. Shirakawa isn't into that! And Honda is straight... I guess. (I don't know, fluid sexuality for everyone!) But they do have a cute beginning that has nothing to do with insei.

- **On Nase** : She's not heartless, she's actually just very rational. Her priorities are different from Isumi's but since that section is from Isumi's view, she's coming off a bit too harsh. Really, the Nase here is pretty awesome.  _(grin)_

- **On Ochi** : As if I would forget him.  _(sinister grin)_

 **-On Hikaru's Rise** : At the insei school, he's legitimately terrifying. He's risen to Isumi's level when he entered at what should have been on Maeda's in under a month. It's disorienting to the other Class A insei when someone they play one week is at their level and the next week, he's playing as one of the strongest insei there. As for NetGo (at which Nase implied), apparently  _someone_  caught on.  _(hint hint)_

- **On the Gate** : A lot of things are happening there but there won't be an explication for awhile.

- **On Rizumu** : I know I tried to make it a big reveal but pretty much everyone already knew Rizumu was Mitani. XD

_Questions, comments, concrit? The please..._

_**Kindly drop a review.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N** : Kaga, _no!_
> 
> - **On Mitsuo and Shinya** : Shinya was mentioned in Chapter 6; he's Masaki's right-hand man and the ringleader of the drug circuit in the Gate. Mitsuo's group doesn't know that yet, though.
> 
> Mitsuo is just all kinds of obsessed with his son, to the point where it extends past love of family. I don't want to say it's incestuous, though, because Mitsuo is not sexually attracted to Sai. It's just a very unhealthy relationship for completely different reasons.
> 
> - **Momo** : Mitsuo routinely kills his own pets - they're not even always birds - and then justifies it by saying he wanted Sai to only see cute, lively things rather than aging pets dying from any other ailments.
> 
> - **On Shirakawa and Honda** : Their relationship is innocuous and not at all illicit. Just to clarify - _not even the slightest bit romantic or sexual._ Shirakawa isn't into that! And Honda is straight... I guess. (I don't know, fluid sexuality for everyone!) But they do have a cute beginning that has nothing to do with insei.
> 
> - **On Nase** : She's not heartless, she's actually just very rational. Her priorities are different from Isumi's but since that section is from Isumi's view, she's coming off a bit too harsh. Really, the Nase here is pretty awesome. (grin)
> 
> - **On Ochi** : As if I would forget him. (sinister grin)
> 
> - **On Hikaru's Rise** : At the insei school, he's legitimately terrifying. He's risen to Isumi's level when he entered at what should have been on Maeda's in under a month. It's disorienting to the other Class A insei when someone they play one week is at their level and the next week, he's playing as one of the strongest insei there. As for NetGo (at which Nase implied), apparently someone caught on. (hint hint)
> 
> - **On the Gate** : A lot of things are happening there but there won't be an explication for awhile.
> 
> - **On Rizumu** : I know I tried to make it a big reveal but pretty much everyone already knew Rizumu was Mitani. XD
> 
>  
> 
> _Questions, comments, concrit? The please..._
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> _Kindly drop a review._  
>  **


	13. Tapestry of Scars

**A/N** : Sorry for the wait! If you've been reading this from when I first posted it, you know I'm absolute shit at keeping an update schedule. (nervous laugh) Please forgive me?

**Disclaimer** : I do not own  _Hikaru no Go_.

**Pairings** :  _(dirty look)_

**Warnings** : Mitani prefers vulgar language.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

_Tapestry of Scars_

* * *

Fading sunlight gave way to the almost brutal luminescence of the spotlights shining down on the construction efforts across the street, an atmosphere of methodical dismantling cast over the wide road the three insei walked along. One by one, the streetlamps flickered into life, foot traffic picking up in density and speed as people clambered by each other in the familiar route of after-occupation pastimes. The signs posted to the street-facing side of the white-tiled building nearly masked the five-story structure and proclaimed everything from a humble yakitori restaurant to insurance offices. Two stand-alone signs guarded the only doorway into the building, one a mesh of pictures of an artist workshop and the other nothing but a large graphic of a goban with the kanji juxtaposed over it in red-outlined white font.

"According to a friend of mine, this place is supposed to have some pretty great players," Isumi said with a smile.

Nase looked rather enthusiastic, eyes riveted to the signboard as they passed it and through the doorway. There was no elevator so they would have to walk up to the fifth floor using the grayed steps. The stairwell up was rather drab, each floor's door marked with what lay beyond its closed face in utilitarian black text. The addition of Korean was a bit of a surprise, but neither of Hikaru's companions seemed particularly bothered by it.

"Is this the same friend who gossips about others over black coffee?" Hikaru managed out as they crested the fourth floor. Isumi flashed him a charming grin in response which the younger boy took dourly as an affirmative.

Once they had reached the fifth floor, Nase pushed open the door gratefully. It opened into a shorter hallway, a surprisingly clean place given the state of the stairwell. Nevertheless it was minimalist in decoration, nothing more than the same outside sign for the salon posted above the glass doors leading into the parlor itself. From what Hikaru could see, it was smaller than the Heart of Stone, three rows consisting of twelve gobans each cramped into the small interior. The boards themselves were set atop sturdy wooden desks, manned by a pair of rickety wooden chairs inlaid with plastic red cushions that had nearly lost their shine. The lights overhead were unwelcomely bright, almost unpleasant in their interrogation room-reminiscent intensity. Surprisingly, the salon itself was mostly occupied with patrons; it seemed that nearly every goban had a pair of players and some even had a one-person audience.

"Busy!" Nase exclaimed. This only seemed to excite her even more, as she had picked up speed and opened the door with an eagerness Hikaru had never seen in the usually-docile girl. Isumi let her pass through first, holding the door open for Hikaru on reflex before both boys followed the girl to the Korean man seated behind the desk near the entrance.

As Hikaru studied the layout of the room and its clientele, Nase had already pulled her wallet out, bright eyes on the man. "How much?"

Hikaru leaned a bit closer to Isumi. "Why is she so excited?"

Isumi winced a bit. "She gets competitive in places like these," he tried to explain. It was a trait he himself hadn't expected of the girl, especially as she'd never showed so much as a glimpse of that same fire in the insei institute. From what Isumi knew of his friend, she apparently had been an avid participant in the gambling aspect of go from the moment her grandfather had first taken her to a go parlor.

Isumi had only first discovered her vicious streak when he'd invited both Waya and Nase out for a former Go salon-hopping adventure; somewhere along the way Nase had conquered an entire Go salon of what Isumi was almost sure were yakuza members while Waya tried to gamble away their time in exchange for saving about 1500yen on their entrance fees. He'd resolved to never invite the two along at the same time after that, because he couldn't split his attention equally to keep them both in line. Fujiwara Hikaru might be a little odd but he was nowhere as frustrating as some of Isumi's other friends.

"I take it you didn't learn Go from the gambling sort of parlors then," Isumi mused dryly.

A snort. "Wouldn't that have been a godsend earlier," Hikaru murmured wistfully. He brushed past the perplexed Isumi to match the required entrance fee Nase was handing over to the owner.

"Ah, three young Japanese children have come to play?" the man greeted. There was a teasing edge to his words nearly lost to his accent, but it was obvious he was by no means being mean-spirited. He thanked them for their patronage and invited them further inside, having garnered the attention of the some of the closer patrons.

Nase approached the first person to match her stare. Hikaru gleaned a distinctly bloodthirsty element to her smile, and some part of him wondered if perhaps Shirakawa had a bit too much influence on his students.  _We're all doomed,_  he realized fatalistically.  _We will either be assimilated into the Shirakawa line or perish before it._

"Nase, be polite," Isumi was already chastising at the side with the kind of tone that suggested he had already resigned himself to mollifying those Nase would inevitably offend. He hadn't even so much as glanced over the Go boards since they first entered.

Nase's opponent said something in Korean that, while none of them could understand, did seem to hint at a challenge. (It was actually a request for more tea directed at the amused owner behind them.) The insei took her seat and nigiri began in short order, not hindered in the least by the language barrier. Nase's smile was wide enough that it was veering from pleased contentment to outright malicious.

"Hikaru-kun, you can go ahead and play," Isumi said distractedly.

"Thanks, mom," Hikaru muttered although it went unheard by the older boy. He glanced about the place for a willing opponent or an empty seat, but none in his immediate vicinity were open for him. There were a couple free spots scattered further away and even a free table in the corner, but besides a general buzz of interested glances from some of the other patrons, no one looked quite ready to engage the insei in a game.

Hikaru turned around and began to walk towards the empty table in the corner. Nase in bloodlust must make for an interesting opponent from across the goban but that didn't mean Hikaru wanted to stay beside her as she so naturally caused men twice her size to shrink away. The lone free goban might be a bit far from his friends, but the room wasn't that big to begin with and he was only a few meters away from the emergency exit. Besides, if he put some distance between them, then maybe the other patrons wouldn't group them together and actually play a game with him.

Taking a seat at the empty goban, Hikaru looked it over. There were surprisingly few scratches on the goban's surface for such a rough-looking place, but he supposed the owner genuinely did like his business. The man might be a bit more teasing than Heart of Stone's Kawakami but at least he cared for his goods and (judging by the man's cackling from where he, too, was hovering around Nase) his clientele.

It wasn't a bad place. Hikaru had little experience with Go salons outside of Heart of Stone (which had actually prompted Isumi's invitation) but from what he had seen, it looked like a pleasant business. Even if the patrons were all old geezers, the ones Hikaru met were generally pleasant to be around. If he failed out of insei, Hikaru wondered if he'd be able to start working for a Go salon then; any job would be nice in case he couldn't fulfill what Sai wanted of him, but at least Hikaru could stay somewhere within the world of Go.

It would be enough. As long as Sai didn't ditch him completely and Hikaru could have at least one attachment to Go, he would be the happiest kid in the world. He could admit this newfound attachment of his made him more greedy than he was used to, but after all this - why couldn't he have both?

A fingertap on the goban startled Hikaru out of his thoughts. He wondered what expression he had been making to prompt such a look from the other person, because whatever it was, it had caused dark eyes to widen and a stuttered garble of Korean to come out. Hikaru blinked up at the boy, his own expression clearing.

The Korean boy regained some of his lost composure, eyes scouring over Hikaru's face and clearly making inferences from his confusion. The teen muttered but took the open seat across, pointedly pulling one of the goke towards himself and raising one eyebrow at Hikaru.

_Where did he even come from?_  Hikaru spent a moment thinking, but he nodded regardless and pulled the remaining goke to himself. He was sorted to go first after nigiri, the Korean teen across from him wholly concentrated and unusually serious. Hikaru spared a moment to look over his opponent; the other boy held that same look of intensity that reminded Hikaru of Touya Akira. His posture was rigid, a result of organized matches that most of the insei had that sometimes carried over into leisure time. The Korean boy looked as if he was given more to frowning then smiling, his expression too severe to be considered friendly but polite in a cold way that Hikaru was accustomed.

The teen waved at him to begin. Every line of his body was pompous; Hikaru twitched in irritation. If it hadn't been for the clearly serious expression on the other boy's face, Hikaru would have written him off as just another arrogant fool believing they could beat Hikaru based off this two-toned hair.

Sai had taught Hikaru how to play Go; Ogata had taught him how to fight his opponent in every move; Shirakawa had taught him how to have enough confidence to carry out his own manipulations of the board. All three had never taught him mercy.

* * *

Ogata returned to Sai's apartment both irritated and empty-handed. "Lost him at the corner," the man admitted with a scowl, glaring over at the couch where Rizumu now sat. The boy wasn't doing anything but staring into the empty air, nearly motionless save for the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Sai's eyes wandered from the disturbingly familiar child back to the other Go professional.

"They seem to be Hikaru's friends," Sai explained quietly. The twist in his tone on the last word clued Ogata in - 'friends' as in 'former co-workers'. The ninth-dan looked less-than-pleased with this revelation.

Sai gave a sigh, then turned and slowly made his way over to the child on his couch. It was Mitani, there was no doubting it - but he was sicklier than the one in the dreamverse, far worse than even Hikaru had been when Sai had first stumbled upon him. His skin was paler, as if daylight was hard to come by, his features narrower and more gaunt. He was nearly drowning in his clothes and they hung off his thin frame, all angles under cloth. The corner of his mouth was rough, skin reddened and scabbed over as if he'd burned himself. His gaze was dead, nearly vacant save for way he fidgeted, but even they were jarring, slightly spastic motions.

"Your friend," At least Sai hoped Kaga was a friend; the teen's words at least hinted at some form of attachment to his youngers. "Seems to already know who I am, but let me introduce myself - I am Fujiwara Sai, Hikaru's new guardian."

The boy said nothing for a long moment, looking at the space above the TV listlessly. Then, with a quiet shuddering breath, he turned dark eyes on the Meijin. "Itsuka's new dad, right?" he asked. His voice came out surprisingly clear, his tone almost harsh but lacking any true bite. He just sounded utterly bored, as if the proceedings were nothing he hadn't seen before. His gaze remained even, slipping from Sai's face to his shoulder as if he'd lost interest in the middle of his words.

"Well, something like that," Sai fumbled. He'd never been referred to as Hikaru's 'father' before and it threw him for a bit. Was there an age requirement for that? Hikaru did seem to hold him in a higher regard than as a 'friend', 'mentor' would be a closer term, but 'father' - wasn't he almost just that from the rest of society's perspective?

"Do you sleep with him?"

Sai staggered back, horrified. "Excuse me-?"

"Itsuka. Do you fuck him?" the boy demanded in that same droll tone. His expression had not yet wavered from its bland countenance, nothing twisted in his tone; it was as if he were discussing the choices on a take-out menu.

Ogata stepped up to Sai's side. "No one should be doing that and no one here will," he replied. His tone was even but severe, a clear indication he was biting back his rage. Fury would be a useless tool here in conversation; the boy was far too calm for their subject matter and the adults were clearly out of their depth.

"That's what I heard, too," the boy acknowledged. "But none of us really believed it. Itsuka got lucky."

"He doesn't go by that name anymore," Sai corrected. "I'll ask you not to use it."

The boy looked marginally surprised at that, the shift in his expression only relieving to the Meijin just because it meant Rizumu could actually feel something. Sai knew why; the moniker was the line of defense, was the wall these children used between them and the adults. 'Itsuka' was more than a name, it was a mask and a shield so that Hikaru could at least have some part of himself  _for_ himself.

"That's right, you used a different name," the boy said. He said it quietly, eyes wide; the real name of any individual member of the Gate was not freely given. Masaki would know, of course, when it came to the majority of his goods, and many of their real identities could be bought from Tomorou or Mimi - but Rizumu had never bothered.

But when Itsuka wasn't Itsuka - who was he?

"He's Fujiwara Hikaru now," Sai continued. "I can call him to let him know you're here. What is your name?"

The boy didn't smile, but even if he had, Sai had the feeling it would make his skin crawl. "Rizumu," the child answered.

Sai had taken out his phone but paused at the admission. Rizumu - the "sick friend" Hikaru had tried to visit months ago.  _So he's real,_  Sai mused. And clearly was suffering some form of sickness, although he had yet to know what.

"And your real name?" Ogata asked. He'd never been exposed to 'Itsuka' and Hikaru's life during his time trapped in the Gate, so he wouldn't accept Rizumu's name so easily. It was clearly false - who named their child that? - and he refused to take it at face-value.

For a moment, it seemed the child would not answer. Whatever interest Rizumu had had in their conversation had fizzled out, displaced by the growing look of apathy that barely vacated his features. Sai wondered how a child could regard his surroundings with such little care, as if he'd evaluated all around him and could not be bothered to react to any of it.

_Just how many of them are like this?_ Sai thought, the tight restraint he had on his own temper managing to keep hold.

"I don't have a 'real name'," Rizumu answered, spiritless.

"Seiji, let it be," Sai cut in before his friend could argue it. He was already typing out a message to his charge.

Hikaru had said he was going to spend the majority of his day salon-hopping with some of his insei friends and didn't know when he'd get back. Knowing just how heated Hikaru could get during games and how much of a positive influence his insei peers could be, Sai had given the boy enough money for any meals incurred throughout the day and sent him off with his blessing.

Hopefully Hikaru read the message sometime soon. Sai wanted enough time to be able to talk with Rizumu a bit more to understand more of his situation, which was why he didn't bother calling Hikaru just yet.

"I'm not like Itsuka," Rizumu continued on.

Sai looked up from his phone to meet those dark eyes, momentarily bemused, but the boy had turned his vacant look on to the Go magazines scattered about the coffee table. He fidgeted briefly with his sleeves, tremors shaking thin arms as he struggled to pull at a loose string from the hem.

"I never had another name. I'm just Rizumu." He didn't even pause to let that sink in as he continued, "Say, Fujiwara-san - do you have any food? I'm hungry."

* * *

On her fifth game, Nase was clearly on a winning streak - she was only briefly depressed that this wasn't one of the gambling parlors she was more used to so at least she could be making decent pocket cash. Still, claiming supremacy over her fifth opponent - a grown man with a wide mouth and kind eyes - Nase could admit she was having fun, even with Isumi hovering nearby making sure she didn't accidentally (or purposely) insult her opponent.

Honestly, she'd only done it once, and that was because the man was a bully who thought because he could beat a few beginners in Go it made him next to find the Hand of God. It was her Shirakawa-given moral duty to weed out such people.

Her opponent conceded with a small smile, looking slightly remorseful - possibly because they couldn't even discuss their game given the language barrier. The few people surrounding them chatted about it amongst themselves, though, so the man vacated his spot and joined them. Ignoring Isumi's small sigh of relief as no one looked ready to challenge the girl soon, Nase looked around for their third wayward companion. She did catch a glimpse of Hikaru, but that was through the small throng that had built up in the corner quietly squabbling amongst each other.

"Oh, looks like he's having fun," she noted. Isumi's eyes snapped away from her to land on the younger boy. She gave an inward sigh as Isumi strode in Hikaru's direction; ever since his little brother had been born, Isumi had taken his role as an "older brother" too seriously. He acted as if all of his friends were guaranteed to harm themselves (or others) if left to their own devices for long. She could understand the older boy's anxiety to a degree; his mother had remarried fairly recently and it was the first time Isumi had to worry about his role in a family. This seemed to have carried over into how he treated his friends.

She rose from her spot more sedately than her fellow insei but followed his general path; some of the other patrons surrounding the corner Hikaru was ensconced in made way for them, which gave them a clear view of the proceedings: Hikaru being forcefully handed a slip of paper with a name and phone number written on it by another teenage boy.

"Hikaru-kun," Isumi broke in feebly, unsure what exactly was going on. There was a finished match on the board between Hikaru and his forward companion - the makings of a very interesting one - but it certainly didn't explain Hikaru's confused expression and furious blushing as the teen spoke to him in relentless Korean.

"I think I made a friend," Hikaru explained, looking over the contact information critically. At least the Korean teen had written his name in  _katakana_ so Hikaru could read it.

The Korean boy glared at Hikaru expectantly. Hikaru met his eyes in open confusion, before it dawned on him what his opponent wanted. Using the same piece of paper and pen the Korean teen had received from the salon owner, Hikaru jotted down his own phone number and included his name in  _hiragana_. The boy took the paper with a decisive nod - Hikaru felt more like a dog that had done the desired trick - and thanked him for the game in cold, stilted Japanese.

"I don't know why you are giving me this when I don't speak Korean and you don't speak Japanese," Hikaru said dryly.

The salon owner was evaluating the board with clinical interest before turning his look to encompass all three of the Japanese kids. "You're good," he said matter-of-factly. "Surprisingly so. Do you play for fun or-?"

"We're insei," Nase admitted a little too freely.

"Insei!" the Korean teen echoed with a burst of vindication. He grabbed Hikaru by the wrist to accost his attention, unnecessarily forceful and causing the boy to freeze. "I am  _yeon'gusaeng_."

_His name-?_  But that didn't match the contact information he'd given Hikaru so it couldn't be that. Isumi appeared taken-aback, looking from the teen back down to the game.

"He's the Korean-equivalent of insei," he explained carefully. "And your game- it was evenly-matched."

"My nephew is regarded as the best in his class," the salon owner stated proudly, flicking said nephew on his ear in a clear admonishment to let Hikaru go. The teen did as nonverbally chided, muttering something in Korean as he pocketed Hikaru's contact information.

"I think I have to go now," Hikaru said quietly, rubbing at his wrist. He hadn't been grabbed that aggressively by another kid in so long, the last time being when Chikara had stopped him during his breakdown after his adoption. An unpleasant feeling welled-up in his gut, a remnant memory of that night as a whole.

The salon owner gave him an encouraging grin as Isumi agreed diffidently. "Come back any time,  _insei_ ," he said as the trio passed by. "I have a feeling my nephew will not be forgetting you any time soon."

Once they'd left the parlor and its patrons to their exuberant discussions, Hikaru let go of a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "What's with that guy, anyway? It's not like I won," he muttered, pulling out the slip of paper.

"He won by four moku," Isumi said. "The Korean insei program is supposedly a lot more competitive than Japan's, so he's nothing to scoff at."

Nase bumped shoulders with the younger boy playfully. "Seems you caught the attention of someone interesting, then!"

_Story of my life,_  Hikaru thought sardonically.

The name  **Ko Yongha**  stared back up at him.

* * *

Peach-pink lipstick was delicately smoothed over her lips, slow and sensual for an audience that wasn't there to ogle. The air around her tasted like plum blossom but she found she didn't like the scent; it was too soft, too malleable, and she'd never been particularly either. It fit some of the younger girls but she hated them for that, because for what they lacked in experience they could make up for in feigned naivete that she was now too old to get away with.

Fifteen years old and she was already too old for this. It was unfair; she knew that if she couldn't keep her customers, soon she'd be either promoted up a Rank for the more risque clientele or sold off to one of the soap houses. Both were an undesirable outcome; she was perfectly content in Caramel.

" _Natural and not too cute-sy,"_  Masaki had boredly outlined.  _"He's more into boys so be ready for that."_

" _Then why did he choose me?"_ she'd pouted.

Masaki's eyes had flicked over her in veiled irritation. His temperament had worsened as of late, although she was unclear why - between the disappearance of Shinya and the death of Shanhai, the idea that the Gate was beginning to fall apart was starting to be whispered among its oldest members.

" _He didn't, he just agreed to whatever we had,"_  Masaki had said. He'd looked over her glossy black hair with a smirk.  _"Maybe we should dye your bangs?"_

She'd gaped at him in horror; her clean, un-dyed hair was a source of pride.  _"Like hell! I'm not Itsuka!"_

Masaki had snorted, looking back down at his phone.  _"You might need to be."_

And wasn't that a stinging thought? She'd fallen far enough, she was getting that little whelp's leftovers. Itsuka hadn't been around as long as she had been, yet it was clear he'd earned quite a bit of favor from the upper circle of the Gate members. Chikara and Mimi were one thing, but to also have Masaki wrapped around his little finger - Itsuka had never known he was so lucky to have only been bruised for some of the things he'd pulled before he'd been bought.

She left the bathroom, gentle expression pulled over her features. While the client was definitely one of the better-looking ones she'd ever received, there was something insulting about how he refused to indulge in the services he paid for. If she were more honest with herself, she'd admit that he wasn't interested in her sexually at all.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," she said, settling in the padded cushion next to the man. Amekura shook his head with a small smile, half-leaned against the table with a hot cup of tea in hand.

"Not at all, Hibiki-chan," he replied softly.

The apartment was larger than it needed to be for its single occupant, spacious and well-furnished. The heavy taste of smoke was being slowly pulled out and filtered through the open windows, blowing in the warm air of the night that was a welcome breeze in the face of such foggy heat.

Hibiki pulled her fishtail braid over her shoulder, one hand clawed into the apartment's plush carpeting. It was soft, a gentle tan that was more homely than anything she'd seen so far and dichotically different from the listless burgundy of the Gate she'd grown used to. The television was on but the sound was so low that the words were lost, only the distraught face of the leading actress flashing across the screen to warrant her attention.

Music books filled up the sole bookcase, a tall piece of furniture that matched the decor well. Everything about Amekura's apartment screamed comfort, and once again Hibiki was left inwardly seething at what Itsuka had been able to have before her. It was a wonder the boy had agreed to be bought by anyone else besides the piano teacher next to her.

She stretched her arms a bit forward, pushing together and further exposing the top of her breasts. It was an appealing and eye-catching move, but before this man - it had met little success. "What were we talking about?"

A sip of tea, a sad smile. "What you know about Itsuka-kun," he said. "Since he's too busy right now to see me…"

Hibiki choked on the urge to roll her eyes. It was ridiculous, the lengths this man went to lie to himself. He'd even somehow convinced himself that Itsuka was only on temporary leave, which was quite a feat given the way Masaki had coldly and efficiently informed everyone that the boy had been permanently bought.

Really, it was more of a miracle that Itsuka  _hadn't_  been bought by Amekura. The sheer number of mementos he'd kept of the boy in his bedroom was more than alarming; she'd seen the middle school uniform among a smaller stash of items that screamed of Itsuka's former ownership.

Masaki had stressed that Hibiki needed to keep this client occupied with her. She could see why - Amekura's devotion to the former Gate member was unsettling. He wasn't particularly violent or aggressive, so she wasn't as concerned as her boss was; as far as she saw, Amekura was more likely to kill himself over Itsuka's implied rejection than hurt anyone else.

It was just...pitiful. Which was good for her - she liked clients that were easy to emotionally manipulate.

"Well, Amekura-san," Hibiki started, careful to keep her tone upbeat. "I definitely know what he was getting into last I saw him. It was the silliest thing, I didn't expect it at all!"

She giggled, the falseness of it making her inwardly wince. "He was playing Go, if you can believe it!"

* * *

_From: Fujiwara Sai_

_Rizumu is here._

Hikaru didn't wait for Nase to finish her latest tale about Shirakawa - it was amazing, the amount of rumors that were spread about their instructor - after having glanced over the message; he hit speed-dial and stopped walking completely, only to be further dragged out of the way of foot traffic by a courteous Isumi.

They stood under the overarching hood of a closed bakery, the lights from the open shops and streetlamps reflected off the paneled glass and lighting up his friends' concerned faces. Clearly Hikaru had displayed an uncharacteristic flurry of movement but they dutifully remained quiet as he sorted out his own business, unwilling to pry given how new their friendship was.

Isumi traded a look with Nase as Hikaru busied himself with his phone. He ruminated that they didn't know much about the other boy; Hikaru had yet to have the same length of acquaintanceship Isumi had with most of the others within their group, in which details on families and studies were often filtered in. What did stick out was that Hikaru hadn't shared even a scrap of anything similar; usually there would be a complaint here and there about a certain family member or issue. Aside from a connection to Ogata ninth-dan, it was as if Hikaru had no family member worth speaking of.

Honda had been similar, Isumi remembered with a spike of concern. The other boy eventually confessed, late at night as he enjoyed a bowl of soba noodles with Isumi and Waya, that his family was virulently against him learning Go. The only reason they had agreed to his goal was because of Shirakawa-sensei's influence over Honda's immediate family; a tenuous relationship built on the grounds that Shirakawa was a much better role model than either of Honda's parents.

Perhaps that is who Hikaru reminded Isumi of; the formerly aloof figure of Honda rather than the vibrant picture of Waya.

Hikaru's expression as he listened to the ringing of the phone was panicked, the quick beating of his heart washing a tide of forced calm over his nerves in an effort to keep himself from seizing. The very idea that Sai and any of his Gate friends were in the same space was one that could potentially ruin everything Hikaru had now. But even more than that, the fact that it was  _Rizumu_  of all people...

Sai picked up on his line but before he could even manage either a greeting or a name (Hikaru hadn't bothered to hear either), the boy shot out a jittery, "Rizumu is there?"

" _Yes. Hikaru, listen - you need to calm down. One of your friends dropped him off here,"_  Sai paused, a noise in the background giving some kind of static-y explanation.  _"Aian, according to Rizumu. He's left but Rizumu is here."_

"Is he okay?" Hikaru asked. Why would Aian drop Rizumu at Sai's place? Usually the boy just left their mutual friends in random shopping centers for Hikaru to meet up with, not at his home. That was even shelving the idea that Aian, apparently, had bought information on his new home to such a degree that he could locate it.

"I'm coming back," Hikaru said. The less time Sai had with Rizumu alone, the better it was for everyone involved. "I can make the seven o'clock train. Don't- Don't kick him out, please?"

"Of course I won't," Sai sighed.

"Seiji is here with us. I'm sure he won't be adverse to starting dinner." That was said very pointedly so clearly Ogata was listening in. "Be careful on your way home."

* * *

The eerie silence that had descended on the apartment in the wake of Sai's successful phone call to Hikaru was interrupted only by the television program the Meijin had put on to entertain his newfound houseguest. For his part, Rizumu kept his eyes forward and his gaze never wandered to the two men, a stark contrast to the way in which Hikaru used to watch them from the beginning.

Rizumu was unseeing, unmoving, a sculpture given flesh and blood but not the emotions to match. He said little to nothing as they waited, the only marker of life being the way he fidgeted here and there, his fingers like errant insects that attempted to flee the main body they were attached to. He would pause at moments to stare at his own hands, as if entertained by the way the tremors held him.

Sai may not recognize the symptoms but Ogata definitely did: the kid wasn't sick in the traditional sense, he was in drug withdrawal.

Hikaru had never displayed such symptoms, not once in the entire time Ogata had seen him. Sai may have had to deal with Hikaru alone in his worst moments in the beginning, but he'd never hinted at drug use. So why was the brat's so-called friend showing such acute symptoms?

Ogata started on dinner but kept a watchful eye on the new kid. Sometimes violence was a symptom of withdrawal and Sai was too fragile to deal with a direct blow, even from a kid. He'd managed to whip up a simple meal, light in seasoning so as not to upset any stomachs in what he felt would be the inevitable, ensuing blowout.

Hikaru turned up just as he'd scratched the last bit of the tonkatsu from the pan and onto the fourth plate of food. The kid looked a disheveled mess, his normally impeccably-fashioned hair out of place and in a winded frenzy. If not for the look of abject fear on his face, Ogata probably would have laughed.

"Nice hairstyle," he sniped out. It wasn't like he often got the chance to tease the kid over his looks.

Hikaru paused, fearful expression morphing into the confounded one that was more stunned-lemming than terror.  _Cute_ , Ogata inwardly cackled. He didn't voice this opinion in the silence, instead settling the four plates onto the small table.

"Welcome back!" Sai greeted warmly, keeping to the routine. No matter the disarray of current events, he'd learned that keeping to the routine ensured a more comforting approach to his charge. Clearly said boy's baffled expression did little to change this.

"I-I'm home?" Hikaru finally managed out.

Rizumu didn't say anything, his expression barely shifting but at least his eyes had moved from bland watching of the game show to the concentrated interest he doled out to Hikaru. The blond-banged boy pulled off his shoes and strode over to his peer, concern evident in his features.

"Rizumu-" Hikaru began.

The russet-haired boy cut him off evenly. "That redhaired idiot thinks he's some kind of hero," he scoffed out. Disdain dripped from his features, the only emotion to show clearly from the boy in the past two hours. "I told him not to bother but he doesn't listen to me."

Rizumu sounded oddly resigned to the last part. Ogata wondered how he got the name; he spoke in nothing but bored tones, nearly inflectionless and with no accent or enthusiasm to speak of. He was desiccative, more dried kindling likely to set ablaze and burn out in an instant than keep others warm.

"Are you hurt?" Hikaru asked. The two adults watched in stunned silence as Hikaru reached forward without reserve, fingers smoothing down his friend's limbs - from his fingers, up his arms and over his shoulders, down his abdomen, his sides, past his thighs to rest on bony kneecaps. Given the way Hikaru shied away from touch that wasn't explicit in one sense or another, this was a new side to the boy.

"No," Rizumu answered. His body trembled, a boldfaced piece of evidence of the lie. Hikaru didn't respond to that but whatever he found in his friend's expression soothed his nerves.

"But why did Aian bring you here?" Hikaru continued.

"Hikaru," Sai interrupted benignly. "Dinner's ready. Why don't we eat first before we continue this?"

Both boys turned flummoxed expressions on the man. Ogata had already set up the entire meal at this point and was waiting for the others at the table, an absurd centerpiece to the backdrop.

No matter how badly they wanted answers, the wellbeing of the children triumphed over their questions. It was an approach Sai had used to earn Hikaru's trust, no matter how tentative it had been at first. Their ability to help was limited by how much they would be allowed to by Rizumu and, ultimately, Hikaru himself.

The Gate was a subject Sai had not yet breached with Hikaru besides in passing mentions made by the boy. Sai only knew it was a place, the center of which became the frame from which Itsuka would be made. The Gate was Masaki, in all his cruelty; it was Hikaru and Itsuka; it was the sickly Rizumu and the violent Aian.

The Gate was something Sai had taken for granted to be over with. Rizumu's presence was a rude wake-up call that just because he'd helped Hikaru out of the mire, didn't mean the tar had been wiped from his heels.

"Ah, right," Hikaru agreed tentatively. Rizumu's expression pulled into a strange grimace, as if not quite believing his friend's easy acceptance of the segue. When the blond-banged boy reached forward to help his friend up, Rizumu went without resisting but clutched at the boy's arm intimately.

Leaned against Hikaru's side in some sort of mockery of an embrace, Rizumu drew his bandaged arm around the thin waist. "Aian said I can't go back to the Gate," he explained in a voice only a shade louder than a whisper. The game show raging on the television nearly drowned the sound, an explosion of laughter and neon lights catching on his face. "Shinya went missing and now there's a shitstorm raging. That glasses freak tried to strangle me but Chikara pulled him off and Aian dragged me outta there."

"Why," Hikaru swallowed dryly. "Why did Tomorou-?"

Rizumu smiled lazily. "I guess he wanted to see if he could."

The boy didn't continue to elaborate on their violent acquaintance's motivations - perhaps because there was nothing more to explain. Tomorou was known equally for his violence and the lack of punishment he should have rightfully earned.

Rizumu took the seat between Hikaru and Ogata at the square dining table, eyes on the food. The low echo of "thanks for the food" made by everyone except their russet-haired guest was not dwelled upon as they ate, no matter how much Ogata wanted to say something.

Their meal was eaten in short order, an uncomfortable silence in contrast to the amiable atmosphere the three usually dined in. Rizumu showed no recognition of his effect on the table, slow-moving as he raised chopsticks to his mouth bite after bite.

Ogata rose to take the dishes to the kitchen sink, Rizumu making no move to help even as Hikaru followed after the bespectacled man with his own plate. The russet-haired boy's eyes followed Hikaru to the kitchen, moving back to the table only once his line of sight was obscured by the pillar separating the two rooms.

"Rizumu-kun," Sai started, keeping his tone even and calm. Even if he could see nothing but Mitani in the sickly boy, that didn't mean he could inject his own coma-version of Haze's most troublesome Go club member into someone who clearly had lived a life completely devoid of the same luxuries. "Can you tell me how you came to be here?"

Brown eyes didn't move away from their dead stare into the tabletop, even as the boy managed to muster enough care to actually respond, "Aian dragged me here."

Both Hikaru and Ogata came out of the kitchen to resume their seats, clearly not going to bother washing the dishes until the situation was dealt with first.

"How did that red-haired boy know where to take you?" Ogata asked next as Sai mulled over the implications. The ninth-dan was fairly certain that Hikaru wasn't stupid enough to tell anyone where he'd moved to, even if he had yet to figure out that Sai had inadvertently forcibly reclaimed him from the teen pimp's clutches through the sheer brutal will of his family's strength.

Hikaru answered this time, uncertainty staining his expression. "They know where I go to school," he said, not bothering to explain who 'they' were - everyone at the table already knew. "If they wanted, they could tail me all the way back to this place. Aian probably bought the information from someone else if he didn't just do it himself."

That was a terrifying thought to both men. Sai knew what his father's men had done to Masaki - he'd been there for most of it, even - but he'd hoped that the teenager wouldn't risk his own health to hold on to someone clearly already lost to him. If the other elements of the Gate were more persistent, that meant Hikaru's safety was at imminent risk - and that was something Sai would not stand for.

But in order to maintain a zone of security for his charge, that meant utilizing more branches of his family's power, which had the unfortunate effect of being forced to interact with its head. Sai knew his father would do as he asked but that didn't mean Sai was particularly confident in his ability to keep their contact minimal. And wherever Fujiwara Mitsuo had his attentions, other members of his line were sure to follow.

A sick feeling settled in Sai's gut but it was heavily outweighed by his concern for his charge and now, it seems, Mitani himself.

_They'll likely make a grab-back for Mitani, just as they tried with Hikaru,_  Sai thought. He didn't understand the hierarchy of this Gate and its members, but he was fairly sure Masaki treated them all like merchandise to be sold from his own venue.  _I'll need to call Kawai to update him._

And wasn't that just a horrifying thought?

"So why did he bring you here?" Ogata asked. "If it was so dangerous, wouldn't he have at least stayed here himself?"

Again, it was Hikaru who replied. It was a wonder to the ninth-dan how much the blond-banged boy knew about the Gate and its inhabitants when he should have cut contact with them long ago.

"Aian's good at keeping himself afloat," the boy said. Honestly, the red-haired male could have left the Gate any time he wanted - he'd just never for bothered. What Hikaru had mistaken for the teen's love of money was actually just a strange sort of loyalty Aian had to those who surrounded him; what had kept Aian grounded in the Gate wasn't desperation, it was his unwillingness to leave those he'd befriended.

"I would get in the way if he wanted to run," Rizumu continued on. "And he's definitely running now."

"What's happening there?" Hikaru asked. Aian's seat of power was below Masaki and Tomorou, but he still ranked near-even with the likes of Chikara and Mimi. There was no immediate threat to that power, as far as Hikaru had seen when he'd been present.

"Shinya's missing," Rizumu answered. "No one knows all of that asshole's connections so the supply's been running short. You know what they say happens to regimes when resources run out."

So the core of the problem wasn't Aian - it was Masaki. The teen was losing his hold of power if he couldn't find more drug suppliers; the drug circuit in the Gate was a prominent feature for both its members and its clients. Hikaru could only imagine the discontent that would rise in response to getting cut.

_Aian's getting out while he still can,_  Hikaru realized. Rizumu was right - if Aian wanted to run, he needed to do it alone. Anyone else would be baggage he couldn't handle the weight of, which meant he had to give that baggage away.

"So he brought you here because he thinks Hikaru is the only way out," Sai concluded.

The idea was shocking to Hikaru. Somehow or another, Aian (and possibly others) had determined that Hikaru himself was untouchable. Is this what Satomi had meant when she said he'd gone too far for the others to reach? Hikaru was no longer regarded as a former Gate member - he was the one who had encapsulated the way to a safe haven.

"Sai," Ogata finally sighed, aggravation lining his words. "They think you're starting an underground railroad."

"...that was not my intention," Sai murmured uncertainly.

Hikaru's eyes moved from his troubled guardian to his friend.

Sai was important to Hikaru.

Rizumu was one of the first Gate members Hikaru had ever interacted with besides Masaki, and what Rizumu lacked in his capacity to care about others, he made up for in sheer biting wit.

It had been a turbulent start. Hikaru had been jittery and terrified, had loathed contact with others as a result of his first few sessions with clients. No matter his justified hatred, however, Rizumu had him outgunned in every way; the boy loathed the Gate members and his clients in equal measure, held everyone aloof as if they were all guilty of the same crime against him. Most Gate employees hated him back for this unsaid snub, but Hikaru was used to being blamed for things - a pastime his mother had indulged in quite frequently after her second boyfriend's death.

Rizumu was spiteful but Hikaru was  _stubborn_. Odd hours and Masaki's strange fondness for both boys had kept them in frequent contact at first; whereas Chikara and Aian had to run around Shinjuku and other areas for work, Rizumu was confined to the Gate when he was not being loaned out.

It had started with Rizumu's MD player. Some of the other Gate members had destroyed it out of spite and to get a rise from the lethargic boy locked in Choco. Hikaru had stumble on its crushed parts during a routine check-up with Masaki, at which time Rizumu stumbled upon him - and blamed him almost immediately.

Whatever defense Hikaru wanted to say had never left his mouth. Rizumu might be ill now but he'd had quicker reflexes and nearly no moral restraint back then; he'd lashed out with a kick to Hikaru's shin that had sent the taller boy tumbling over. The Dog had been called in to separate them as they rolled across the floor in a fight and luckily Mimi had been present to sort out the situation.

That should have been it. As Hikaru acquired more customers, his time at the Gate was less frequent and less dependant on Masaki. Rizumu's expression as he picked up the pieces of his MD player had stuck, though; it was the same look Hikaru had imagined was on his own face when his father had bid him that final goodbye.

Pitiful - that's what Rizumu was to Hikaru. What little sympathy Hikaru had left after his introduction to the Gate had been enough to keep his attention on the russet-haired boy, and what had grown out of that was an emotional investment he'd never intended to make. It was a shaky foundation to a friendship that surprisingly endured.

Hikaru could sort of understand that danger Rizumu's presence put his new guardian in. It was direct contact with the Gate - something Hikaru had mostly kept at bay and refused to explain. Rizumu was not soft, though; he was of the painfully blunt sort, having never needed to entertain customers in small talk. Choco was a horrendous rank for what it required, and as Rizumu had put, there was no need to talk there - it was all a game of survival and a test for what the human body could endure.

Hikaru didn't want Sai to know about any of that. He didn't want Sai to think about what Hikaru had been through, what Hikaru might have gone through should he have stayed in the Gate any longer, what laid behind the words Hikaru never said about the places and people he'd interacted with before the Meijin.

He wanted Sai to focus on the Hikaru now, who was starting to become someone the Meijin could present to others with at least some shard of pride. Hikaru wanted to be the creation Sai should have wanted as if he'd molded Hikaru from the clay itself, rather than the broken piece of ceramics he'd pieced together that never quite looked the same again. Sai couldn't do that with Rizumu there, a shining example of everything that was wrong with Hikaru's previous lifestyle.

If Hikaru wanted to be Sai's ideal student, he needed to be free of the Gate and all of its connections. This included his friends; no matter the danger they were in, Hikaru should force them out so they wouldn't intrude on his new life.

Rizumu's hands were on the table top, fingertips burned - a side-effect of drug use and only another notch on the boy's thin body. He'd come empty-handed; his music player was not present, likely left behind as Aian whisked him out of the Gate. It was Rizumu's most prized possession, a gift from Hikaru himself that he'd treasured silently.

Sai was important to Hikaru - but so was Rizumu.

"I'm sorry to ask this," Hikaru began quietly. He didn't know where to keep his gaze; his words were directed at Sai but he was too scared to look in the man's direction. "But please, at least for a little bit - let Rizumu stay here. He's only got me."

"That's dangerous," Ogata interjected severely. "You understand that, don't you? Those people might be looking for him."

Hikaru bit his lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. His heartbeat was pounding erratically; he knew that, understood that fear and all that was implied, but still he wanted to help Rizumu. It was remarkably selfish. Hikaru knew he was nothing but irredeemably selfish now.

Sai sighed. "Even so, he will stay with us for now. This situation is not something that a child should have to deal with, especially alone."

He rose, subsequently cutting off any of Ogata's attempts to play devil's advocate. The ninth-dan might agree with Sai's sentiments but that didn't mean he was ready to let his friend and Hikaru just casually fall into danger themselves.

_As long as I ask, Kawai will help me,_  Sai thought. The idea that Hikaru's former coworkers knew where he currently lived was problem he'd have to deal with immediately, though, but he'd rather not do so while both kids were still present and Hikaru was looking up at him in hope.

"Why don't you two clean the dishes?" Ogata ordered the younger pair. Rizumu didn't look inclined to doing as told, but Hikaru forestalled any chance of a reply by grabbing his friend up by the arm and towards the kitchen. As the two disappeared around the corner of the pillar, Sai found himself meeting Ogata's gaze.

For one breathless moment, neither man said anything. Ogata rose, scowl fixed firmly on his lips - then clapped Sai's shoulder with heavy but not painful force.

"Call Kawai already," the man muttered. "The sooner they're here watching your backs, the better."

Sai nodded, only momentarily surprised by his friend's ability to correctly deduce his actions so quickly. "He's the first call," Sai admitted.

Ogata rose an eyebrow. "There will be more?"

Sai nodded. "I don't know very much about Hikaru's relation to his friend, but I do know that environment is a very important aspect if I want him to improve." And Rizumu challenged that. Even if the boy actually did care for Hikaru enough to not purposely sabotage Sai's attempt at helping him, that didn't mean his continued presence wasn't an accidental negative effect.

Hikaru was currently surrounded by kids his own age who wouldn't have ever dreamed of such circumstances that Hikaru and Rizumu had endured. That came with its own consequences, but even then - Hikaru was definitely improving in some aspects. Rizumu's presence threatened that.

Sai had no intention of sending a kid back into such horrible circumstances, but that didn't mean he was going to let Rizumu recklessly endanger Hikaru, whether it be physically or mentally. Sai had meant what he said about Rizumu's temporary stay - the boy would have to be relocated to somewhere else later, where he and Hikaru were not in such consistent contact. It was the healthiest option for both parties should such contact be kept to 'distant but frequent'.

Sai definitely had the resources to move a nameless child around. It was more a problem of finding where to put Rizumu that wouldn't result in a completely loss of contact with Hikaru yet still keep both boys safe. Sai knew what he had to do, but it was with a bitter feeling of acquiescence.

Sai's gaze flickered over to the entryway of the kitchen at Hikaru's low laugh. He may not have intended it, but for a short while, Sai could become that makeshift underground railroad for those Hikaru wanted to save.

* * *

Not once.

Ex-Shindou, now-Fujiwara Hikaru had not been absent even once since his mysterious name change. Truthfully, Masako never would have even noticed if not for the fact that Ishino-sensei got this stricken look on his face in the first few days of calling his student by his new name. No one else in their class had even registered the change aside from a few eyebrow raises here and there, along with the occasional gossip. (Some of the rumors were just ridiculous; would that straight-laced ex-captain of the Go club really openly befriend a murderer? She scoffed at the idea; Tsutsui was a good student, not a weakling.)

He'd even showed up today, looking ready to drop into slumber at the slightest prod. If she racked her brain long enough, she could probably remember a handful of times he looked far worse, but this didn't stop their homeroom teacher from looking concerned as he lectured from the textbook.

Despite the warnings the girls whispered to each other about their classmate, Masako could admit she was intrigued. Hikaru might say the rudest things to his peers, but they were only rude in a brutally-honest way; if they'd loathed themselves to the same degree Hikaru clearly held himself, they probably would have laughed it off.

Break time rolled around, and she thought about talking to him. Imagined the scenario even, but somehow it rolled around to him blatantly insulting her. She could shrug that off - God knows she'd fielded insults for long enough - but even worse, she could envision his dismissal. Another part of her asked what was the point in talking to someone who wasn't interested in anyone but himself or, for some reason, geeky third year Go players.

She had volleyball; she didn't need to talk to someone she shared little interests with just to sate curiosity. But  _oh_ , the curiosity… Wasn't there a saying about satisfying curiosity?

Break ended, next period began. Masako looked at Hikaru's back, eyes trailing from his nape to his shoulders, to the delicate slope of his spine as he leaned forward to follow the words of the text in front of him. Sometimes she thought he was pretty, a weird thought to have concerning boys in junior high - even weirder was the idea that he was  _too_ pretty. Hikaru wasn't traditionally pretty in the same way some famous actors were; it was more like a strange femininity about him, the way he carried himself more than the way he looked. Seated next to the rambunctious Itou-kun, the differences were stark. She probably would never have noticed, except she had the exact same hairclip he'd used to pin back his bangs a couple weeks ago.

That had gotten some of the other boys to start talking. Maybe the reason Hikaru acted so weird was because he didn't lean the same way they did. They complained he'd never joined them in their discussions about girls, never actively participated in sports, shied away from them when changing into his uniform for P.E.; they gustily muttered about it, excited by the prospect of  _difference_ but abhorring it just the same.

Masako thought it was all so stupid. They were thirteen, for god's sakes - Fumihiro-kun still blushed at the prospect of kissing a girl. Even if Hikaru was interested in a different field, he was still too young to actively play in any.

The rumors persisted anyway, a cloud of ' _homo homo homo_ ' that traced Hikaru's every step. If the boy hadn't been so isolated from his peers to begin with, he probably would have noticed by now; as it was, he'd shown no signs of recognizing the subtle sneers. Being cut off from the group was a normal Tuesday for class 1-A's outcast.

_It's going to attach to Tsutsui-senpai as well,_  Masako thought critically. It was an easy enough idea to latch on to and handily explained Tsutsui's abandonment of his own club. Better that version of events than the truth that the club was full of members their own captain didn't particularly like.

Masako wasn't into Go. She'd learned to play, a spatial history of idly taking it up to entertain her grandmother on the summers she was dumped with the old woman. Volleyball was more fun but Go was a decent pastime.

Masako was into interesting boys, though. Not necessarily for romance - shoujo romance was overrated and tiring and she didn't want to comfort and soothe anyone's wounded soul, thank you - but curiosity was curiosity. How many interesting stories start with the protagonist ignoring the quirky bits?

"Fujiwara-kun, can we walk home together?"

Wide green eyes blinked back at her. She belatedly realized she'd interrupted her teacher mid-word with the request.

"Kaneko! Pay attention!" Ishino-sensei snapped out, regaining his lost momentum with an indignant fury.

The smile that twitched at Fujiwara Hikaru's lips was almost sincere. Kaneko Masako took it as a yes.

* * *

Hikaru thought about how fortunate they were that both Sai and Ogata were caught at work and unable to be present at the Meijin's apartment for the afternoon. It was one thing to agree to "temporarily" allow Rizumu to stay, but Ogata's dour temper didn't seem suitable in dealing with Hikaru's friend. If it hadn't been such a common experience at the Gate, perhaps Hikaru could understand the ninth-dan's reservations. As it was, though, holding the thin, rickety body half-up as Rizumu heaved whatever he'd had for lunch into the toilet was something Hikaru had dealt with personally a few times before. The smell of the vomit stung at Hikaru's nose, the wet splash of the regurgitation the only sound in the bathroom that matched Rizumu's equally haggard breathing.

_I'll make him something light to eat in a bit,_ Hikaru thought critically. It was a good thing Ogata had left the bone marrow soup to stew overnight; it was a healthy meal alternative for his friend. Rizumu's hands were clenched at the rim of the toilet bowl, lessening their clawed hold with slight shudders as the boy drew back to rest his weary head against his friend. He muttered something under his breath, likely a condemnation of the man who had forced whatever substance on him that was giving him such severe withdrawal symptoms.

Hikaru helped lean the slight boy against the cupboards and went to start the shower. While the Western-style bathroom was convenient, Hikaru sometimes wished it was equipped with a proper bath so they could enjoy a good soak every now and then. Hot water flurried out of the showerhead, the water pressure set to its gentlest speed; Rizumu looked like he was barely able to stand at this point. Letting the steam permeate the otherwise small bathroom, Hikaru looked to his friend.

Bored brown eyes met his own, one delicate eyebrow raised. "...I suppose I could crawl in," the boy offered dryly.

Hikaru rolled his eyes. "And then what, drown in your own puke?" he rebuked him. With a determined glance at the steaming shower, Hikaru peeled off his own shirt. At Rizumu's mocking whistle of appreciation, Hikaru sent back a glare but pulled off his pants. He looked at his boxers but determined that seemed a tad excessive, so instead he just kicked his clothes into the corner and went back to Rizumu.

"Couldn't even take off your own shirt, you lazy brat?" Hikaru teased good-naturedly.

Rizumu's hands settled on his own pair as he started to unbutton his friend's shirt. "And have all the fun to myself?" he drawled. He had little reaction as Hikaru slid the shirt off, leaned forward sedately as he braced himself on Hikaru's shoulders and shakily made an attempt to stand. He managed to push himself up and leaned back against the counter, one hand back to keep himself from buckling over and onto the blond-banged boy.

Running one hand through Hikaru's blond fringe as the boy unbuckled his pants and pulled them off, Rizumu gave a lazy grin. "Your roots have grown out already," he said, tugging at the light strands. "How lame."

Hikaru shrugged, "I'm going back to black anyway, so it doesn't matter." He stood up, pulling away from Rizumu's hands to lead the boy to the shower and help drag him inside. Rizumu went without resistance, eyes rested solely on the other boy as water poured down on both of them. It flattened the golden blond strands against their black counterparts, dulling to the color of sand. Rivulets trailed over Hikaru's face and down the side of his neck before he distractedly brushed his hair back and sent the water dragged from his fingertips to be flung into the shower wall.

"Isn't that too boring?" Rizumu murmured. He felt the words as they were lost to the steam, drowned out by the water beating down on Hikaru's back. The shampoo poured into his hands smelled strongly, clean and fresh, a carefully harvested product without color. He massaged it into his scalp without thinking, the slight burn of soap stinging at the corner of his eyes in warning as it trailed down from his hairline. Rizumu shut his eyes and timed his breaths, wondering how his lungs worked as it felt he was only inhaling steam rather than air. The bottom of the shower was flat against his feet, the rubber of the mat suctioned to it bumping unpleasantly against his heels as it squelched with his teetering steps.

Hikaru showed no such discomfort. Water had plastered the material of his boxers to him and Rizumu's eyes glided over the other boy's expanse of skin; paler than his limbs, hardly exposed to sunlight and without scars. It was an affront to Rizumu's own appearance, a web of thin scars demarcating the ridges of his ribs and spine, unpleasant to look at. His drug-burned fingertips were coarse, the nails kept painfully trim so that he wouldn't scratch his own flesh off in any number of fits he suffered through.

Rizumu rested his head on Hikaru's shoulder, tired from regurgitating so much and wanting the physical contact from someone he was certain wouldn't hurt him. It was easy for Rizumu to think of Hikaru as different; the other boy was close enough in age to warrant the interest, close enough in station to not worry about the possibility of being betrayed, and so careful in how he handled Rizumu that he had become the only one the russet-haired boy truly cared about. The connections Rizumu could not make to other people because of where he was in life made it so that he invested every possible emotional relation into Hikaru. The world was infinitely small to Rizumu, and with what was left of it that wasn't in the hands of others, he could solely focus on the one who cared enough to recognize him.

Hikaru didn't show his discomfort. He felt along the scalp of the other boy to make sure the soap had been all properly washed out, satisfied to find none of the slimy substance left. He reached behind him to turn the knobs of the shower off, barely keeping balance as Rizumu relentlessly leaned his weight against him.

"Come on, stand up," Hikaru gruffly chided, pinching his friend lightly on the hand. A short, empty laugh was the only reply but the leaning subsided, giving way to a small smile. Hikaru rolled his eyes at the antics but stepped out of the shower, handing Rizumu his own towel. The boy sloppily dried himself as Hikaru did the same; the impromptu shower meant that both of their clothes remained in the only bedroom of the apartment. Wrapping the towel firmly around his sodden boxers, he lead Rizumu by the wrist across the carpeted floor of the short hallway and into the bedroom.

"Not much for decoration, is he?" Rizumu commented. Despite the short spurts of shopping Sai would indulge in for Hikaru's sake, neither man nor boy were particularly adept at decorating bland walls. This had earned Ogata's subsequent sneering and now the only decorations in the house were the fake potted plants and a framed picture of Sai and Hikaru eating ramen together.

"He actually has more things now than he did when I first came here," Hikaru replied. "He's kind of a workaholic."

Rizumu didn't say anything, flopping back onto the bed. The towel wrapped around his waist managed a tenuous hold but his wet hair soaked into the sheets without resistance. Hikaru didn't care much, moving through his own things and pulling out clothes for both himself and his friend. He was slightly larger than Rizumu, more filled out given Sai's careful watch of his health that Rizumu had been denied.

Pulling out a decent sky blue sweater and black sweatpants, he threw it on the bed for Rizumu. He chose another demure outfit for himself, unwilling to go further than a few gaudy hairclips despite Ogata's consolations.

Hikaru saw the difference between himself and the other Go players. Touya, Kishimoto, and Tsutsui all dressed like they were ready to attend literature lectures; Isumi and Honda favored plain but casual collared shirts, and even Fukui had started to follow along. Hikaru's haphazard assortment of clothing pointed more to a style befitting the back-alleys of Shinjuku than the halls of the insei institute.

Pulling on khakis and a striped brown shirt, Hikaru tried not to pull a face. He forced himself not to look over at his assortment of accessories and made a mental note to throw most of it out; a part of him whined at the money lost on it while the greater part of him wanted to adorn himself in it. What beat both these parts was the overpowering desire to appeal to Sai - not as he had to others, but as a respectable student. It was a position he'd never fielded before and brought with it a mix of emotions, almost as strong as the rising panic should he not prove adequate.

Rizumu curled onto his side, brushing one hand over his face in irritation; his insides felt like they were burning, the desire to satisfy his addiction subdued only by the presence of Hikaru next to him. He watched his friend's back - it looked broader than he last remembered, his shoulders set in a way that was almost confident. The image was ruined when Hikaru turned, a troubled expression on his face as his eyes flickered over the accessories scattered across the dresser next to the bed.

"You aren't going to wear anything?" Rizumu asked (despite still being completely nude himself). Rizumu knew his friend to wear gaudy colors just to make the impression, which had once prompted even Aian's teasing edge to see how far he would take it. (Far, as it turned out; that orange sweater had been absolutely tasteless and no one would let Hikaru forget it.) It was rare for the boy known as Itsuka to go anywhere without some jewelry or gaudy accessory; he draped himself in pearls and spikes just to appeal to his inner fashion snob.

"I'm wearing clothes, aren't I?" Hikaru sniped, giving his friend a look that clearly implied it was something Rizumu should indulge in.

Rizumu's look was uncompromisingly droll. "Why're you wearing  _that_?" The last time anyone had worn something so dull, it had been Hibiki in a one-time attempt to appeal with a librarian-fashion. As far as Rizumu knew, Hikaru had never dabbled in such fashion because he preferred the loud to the bland.

"It's called clothes. They keep me warm and decent," Hikaru doled back in a faux-narrative tone. He was already moving forward, possibly to forcibly put the selected clothing items on his friend, but stopped at Rizumu's snort.

"So is that what he likes to see you in?" Rizumu sneered with a shallow wave of his hand.

Hikaru shrugged, alarmingly self-conscious. Rizumu's words tugged unpleasantly at him, a niggling feeling reminiscent of the time he'd fought with Sai in Geographica. "Well, he's never said he has a preference for any particular fashion," Hikaru hedged out. Despite a throwaway compliment here or there about his hariclips, jewelry, or overall outfit, Sai had never shown any displeasure over his charge's eclectic fashion. "This is just what everyone around him pretty much wears."

Rizumu laughed without humor. "So he's surrounded by a bunch of dull people? Sounds like a fucking nightmare."

_I think we both know what a real nightmare is,_  Hikaru thought. He felt like he should defend his new circle of friends and acquaintances; they were anything but dull, and at the very least, they were happy and optimistic in a way that those in the Gate had never been.

"So why're you wearing that here?" Rizumu asked. "It's not like you're going to that Go school today."

Hikaru scowled, "I just have to, okay? It's not a big deal."

Rizumu made a sound of mocking acknowledgment, drawing himself up into an upright position. The towel slid off from around his waist, the boy unapologetically nude as he drew one knee up to lean his chin against.

"So  _that guy_  doesn't care what you wear, but you're going to wear that anyway?" Rizumu persisted. His tone was visceral, cruel, taunting; his words were not meant to comfort but to provoke. "You think you understand that guy enough that you should wear that stupid outfit for him? Is that it?"

"He never said I have to," Hikaru refuted bitingly. "Sai's different-"

"Doesn't sound that different," Rizumu sneered. "Or are you hoping he'll fuck you if you wear that long enough?"

"It's not like that!" Hikaru snapped. He picked up the sweater he'd left on the bed; the material was soft, bought when he'd went shopping with Chikara in November. The sky had been so far away that winter day, distant in a way Hikaru wished he had been. "Our relationship isn't like that," he continued on, quieter but no less sure.

" _Everyone around him wears this,_ " Rizumu parroted mockingly. "So you want to be just like everyone else around him, huh? You're too fucked up for that, Itsuka."

The name sent a jarring bolt though Hikaru's frame. It had been so long since anyone had called him by that name, a breath of clean air as if he'd emerged from the swampy ground. The moniker was a chain he'd thought he'd lost, but apparently the scar was there no matter how far he ran from it.

"I'm not Itsuka to him," Hikaru stated.

Rizumu leaned forward, yanking the fabric from Hikaru's hands and throwing it into the boy's face with such force that Hikaru stumbled back in surprise. "Then  _what the fuck_  is Itsuka to you?  _These fucking clothes_?"

The sweater fell to the floor, tangling with Hikaru's feet as Rizumu grabbed his wrist and jerked him forward and on to the bed. Hikaru fell onto skin, green eyes settled on the edges of a mouth burnt from drug use as scarred fingers wrapped around his arms to hold him still. Up close, the scars littering Rizumu's body appeared magnified, a map of his turbulent history without end. His rank in Choco was nothing more than one tragedy after another, a sad rote that never ended.

"You can dress like this and still be Itsuka," Rizumu said. "You can keep you mouth shut, you can act obedient, you can study and learn all about a fucking board game and still be Itsuka! You can scream and cry, wear neon tracksuits and dye your hair the color of the rainbow, and still be Itsuka!"

Rizumu grabbed his friend's throat, fingers curled at the flesh evocative of the way Tomorou had attempted to keep the air from his lungs.  _"So what exactly makes you Hikaru?"_

Hikaru was an idiot. It was the sad truth, Aian had explained to him. It was no more clear to Rizumu in this moment; whatever part of himself Hikaru found unworthy of his new guardian had culminated at the expense of his overall self-esteem. Fashion style was a useless and pointless thing to change - whatever mimesis Hikaru desired to move through, it could not be attained through such superficial change. It was a lie inherent of itself, one that would lead to a self-destructive end.

Itsuka wasn't the clothes Hikaru wore, wasn't the jewelry he clasped on or the accessories he wore, wasn't the blond hair dye he subjected on his fringe. Itsuka was the position he'd taken when he thought he had nothing left, was the desperation he'd faced and tried to survive.

Hikaru could not answer him. What made up Hikaru was what Itsuka wasn't; without Itsuka in the terms, Hikaru had nothing to define. He could not describe himself without Itsuka, which was perhaps the worst part - had he become so invalidate that even the worst he was is still more applicable than what he could be?

But low points are such because they can be  _moved on_  from. Fujiwara Sai had said the boy with two-toned hair was no longer Itsuka. Hikaru was who laid atop him now, a fragile kid who was too stupid to see his own worth. Hikaru had to find himself, but there was no easy way in doing so and no consolation those around him could give.

To Rizumu, Itsuka was the only good part about his own experiences. To his beloved friend, Itsuka was the lowest point of his life.

"You told me about your mother once."

The non-sequitur was startling and Hikaru was unable to comment, barely following Rizumu's sudden conversation change as it was. The russet-haired boy had not moved his gaze from their green counterparts, unperturbed by the troubled expression his friend wore. Some part of Hikaru wondered if the Gate had eradicated any idea of sympathy or empathy from the slender boy below him, but the thought was uncharitable at best and true at worst.

"A small woman in a dark place," Rizumu continued. "You said you used your first payment to buy her flowers. Purple aster, pink azalea, and blue morning glories. Do you remember why?"

Hikaru turned his eyes away from such a penetrating stare. "Why the hell do you remember that at all?" he muttered.

"The colors," Rizumu explained. "You couldn't stand how tired everything looked so you brought in the color. Color catches your eye, brightens your mood, was the one thing you could control about yourself no matter where you went."

Rizumu reached up to tug lightly on the blond fringe, uncharacteristically gentle despite the harshness of his prior words. "Whatever you don't like about yourself, it has nothing to do with what you're wearing. Don't insult your precious guardian by assuming you know what he wants you to be."

* * *

Initially, Fujiwara Meijin's dwindling presence at the Touya household had been one of great concern for Touya Akira; the idea that his father no longer proved to be an interesting enough challenge for the prodigious player was both insulting and worrying. With the roundabout discovery of the  _real_ reason for Sai's absences, however, Akira could admit that he was only a little hurt that Sai had yet to bring Hikaru to any of the Meijin's informal games with Touya Kouyou.

His vaguely disgruntled expression must have been enough to clue Ogata in, as the ninth-dan was studiously avoiding looking at the former Meijin's son. The man was completely reticent with information on Hikaru, to Akira's ire; he was glad that Shirakawa-sensei had no such qualms.

As Sai and Akira's father moved into the kitchen, following their usual ritual of post-game discussion, Akira stared at their game on the goban near-enviously. Ogata loitered back with him, an unimpressed look on his face as he lightly rapped his knuckles on the back of the boy's head.

"Stop sulking, Sai will bring him in eventually," the ninth-dan said.

Akira rubbed the back of his head. "It's fine if he doesn't bring him," he said in a neutral tone. A very mature, adult-like response - Akira was good at those.

Ogata smiled cuttingly. "You are a terrible liar," he teased good-naturedly. "He was planning on bringing the brat today but he went out with his friends instead."

Akira's head turned to him so fast, it was amazing he hadn't got whiplash. "Is he at Fujiwara-sensei's Go salon then?" he demanded. If he left now, he could make it there in under an hour. Hopefully Hikaru wouldn't have left for a late lunch, but even then, Akira didn't mind waiting. Even if he still wanted to wait for Hikaru to get a bit stronger, engaging the boy in discussion over his games would be just as enjoyable.

Ogata was staring at him with a look bordering on twitchy. "...probably," he relented, clearly concerned by the sudden eagerness.

Whatever Akira wanted to say next was halted when the door to the room opened, Akiko poking her head with a look of curiosity. "What are you two doing in here?"

Akira floundered for a moment. He didn't want to lie to his mother, but he'd promised not to share his discovery of Fujiwara's student with anyone who didn't already know.

Ogata, of course, had no such reservations. "Gossiping," he answered drolly.

"Oh thank the heavens," Akiko returned evenly, expression perfectly bland. "I had hoped I wasn't the only one to think it's weird how often my husband and Sai-san are alone together."

Akira's expression morphed from befuddled to horrified in record time. "Mother, that's disgusting," he choked out weakly. Ogata couldn't even gather the will to respond, mind momentarily stalling on the wacky idea that his object of affection would fall for his teacher like some twisted daytime television drama plot.

"At least he's cheating on me with someone good-looking," Akiko sighed, closing the door with a smile.

Ogata's stare didn't leave the doorway. "We're lucky you inherited your father's personality," he commented after a moment.

"Don't talk about my mother that way," Akira retorted dutifully.

Ogata looked the boy over critically. He was a strange target to emulate; Ogata knew well from experience just how bad Akira's fashion tastes were. (He would never forgive that purple suit with the orange tie the boy had worn to his Kaio school tour.) Of all the people to attempt to copy, Hikaru had picked the strangest one; it was nothing but more evidence Hikaru had no idea what he was doing. At least Akira was cute, in both face and personality. It made up for the inevitable fashion disaster that he would bloom into later in life when Akiko was no longer there to filter out the worst of his wardrobe. Ogata wouldn't inflict the Touya fashion sense on anyone, even Kuwabara.

A horrible image of the future wave of Go pros came to Ogata's mind. Hopefully Hikaru would come out of the downturn he was currently in and resume his usual style, meaning the Go world had to deal with both  _that_ and Touya Akira. And if Hikaru was anything like he was the first time Ogata had played a match with him, the ninth-dan could only imagine the type of discussions the boy would engage in during tournaments.

Suddenly the Young Lion's Tournament seemed a lot more colorful. In a strange way, Ogata felt he could understand Shirakawa's enthusiasm for the new generation of Go players.

Akira edged away from his father's student. "Why are you smiling like that?"

* * *

Tsutsui wasn't sure about the group he now found himself ensconced with in the corner of the Heart of Stone but made sure not to let that filter onto his face. As it was, they blended near-seamlessly into the backdrop of the go salon given its already-rowdy clientele. This didn't mean he exactly appreciated Kaneko's acidic but well-explained instruction on how to play Go to the disinterested russet-haired boy across from her.

_Where does he find these people?_  Tsutsui wondered, not for the first time. It was a nice Saturday afternoon to spend at the go parlor, a common enough activity that he half-suspected Kishimoto or Touya Akira would show up at some point. Tsutsui had gotten there earlier, happy to find Hikaru had had the same idea but perplexed by the odd pair that flanked him.

The girl, as had been introduced by an increasingly-vitriolic Hikaru, was a classmate of his named Kaneko. She'd been walking home with Hikaru for the past week, a surprising replacement given Tsutsui's attendance to the afterschool exam prep seniors were required to attend. She was a large girl with an even-temper, her words equally diffident but with a harsh edge.

The boy had been introduced demurely as Rizumu, no other mention made of a family name and no distinction regarding age, grade, or school. The only description attributed to the otherwise bored-looking boy was "an old friend of mine," which apparently meant he could paw at Hikaru no matter how grossly intimate it was whenever the blond-banged boy was close enough.

Kaneko had learned Go to keep her grandmother occupied during visits, with a surprisingly strong hand that was only shades higher than some of the mediocre players of the go salon. Rizumu hadn't known one thing and was thus treated to the girl's teaching, as Hikaru had been dragged off by another patron and into simultaneous games that Rizumu kept half an eye on in curiosity.

"Hey, if you're not interested in this," Kaneko snapped despite her calm expression. "Then just go hover over Fujiwara's shoulder. Or just go ahead and drape yourself over him like a scarf, you clearly really want to."

Rizumu's eyes flickered over to her, dismissive. "And you could be a winter coat," he returned.

"At least I would be more useful," Kaneko pointed out with a victorious look on her face. Rizumu seemed to agree with her, if the dissatisfied look he now wore was any indication.

Tsutsui stopped himself from sighing into the empty goban in front of him.  _Why are they arguing over their metaphorical clothing forms?_

"Where did you meet him, anyway?" Kaneko asked, gesturing in Hikaru's direction. It was clear she had never received the unsaid order of not asking anything personal about Hikaru's relations. Tsutsui could see Kawakami tense up from behind the counter, quickly making his own deductions; there were few reasons Hikaru's acquaintances would be so heavily guarded and Rizumu was definitely not a pro Go player.

"Through a mutual friend," Rizumu answered. Tsutsui almost winced at the offhand tone.

Kaneko shrugged off the candid reply. "To be honest, I'm surprised he has any friends. He's not very well-liked in our class." Hikaru had started out as one member of the class no one knew particularly well, having kept to himself and hardly engaging in any conversation or popular pastimes with his classmates. What had started off as indifference turned to passive-aggressive contempt, given the rumors that had started to spread and the careless way in which Hikaru insulted his peers.

"He had a lot of friends where I met him," Rizumu said, a quirk to his tone suggesting some kind of inside joke.

Tsutsui didn't like the way the younger boy talked. His comments were two-faced, laden with double-entendre that hedged too far into the disturbed. Even if his suspicions were right and Rizumu was similar to what Hikaru had been, it was clear the russet-haired boy had changed for the worse.

Kaneko left to go ask Kawakami's wife for a refreshment, a brief respite for her only partially-willing 'student'. Rizumu's gaze slid from her departing back to land on Tsutsui, a cocky sort of tilt to his head as he regarded the bespectacled boy with hooded eyes.

"You don't want something to drink?" Tsutsui asked congenially.

Rizumu smiled thinly, eyes moving back to where Hikaru was arguing with one of the other patrons over their game, pointing at the board with a vehement expression. Rizumu took one of the stones Kaneko had uses to explain the enlivening force of a  _kikashi_ between his fingers, studying it in the light.

"Unfortunately, the only thing I want is taken."

* * *

**A/N** : There, more Hikaru. You had a dip into other characters' viewpoints last chapter because I'm trying to flesh out a safety social net for Hikaru, so you will get to see that start to build up.

**On Rizumu** : Sai isn't going to take up every abused child thrown his way, but he can certainly try to help them. Please allow me to flesh out Mitani and Sai's interactions for a bit. You guys - I'm not  _that_  nice. "Save" is a strong word.

So actually quite a lot of you didn't pick up on the hints of Mitani, which means my evil plan has worked. ( _Good_.)

**On Canon Characters in the Gate** : They're there because  _people_  populate these places as more than just the setting. I invested a bit more history and depth into both canon and OC Gate characters - they're not tools.

By the way, Mitani's sister has been in here since the first chapter. Just saying.

**On Shanhai** : It seems the reactions were pretty evenly divided - some of you saw his end and some didn't. But just so it's clear, Shanhai's death was  _specifically designed_  to be meaningless - there was no greater plot to his death, it was not a catalyst nor a reaction, and it could even be described as pointless.  _That was the entire point._  As I explained to another reader, Shanhai's death was tragic because he should not have been in those circumstances in the first place. People are going to die and there may not even be a good reason for it, if there was one at all.

**On Kaneko** : Finally. She's actually one of my favorite canon characters.

**On Touya Akiko** : Honestly, you might be seeing more of her than her husband here.

* * *

_Questions, comments, concrit? Then please..._

_**Kindly drop a review.** _


	14. A Partial Plate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ...I'm sorry! I know it's been almost six months! I'm sorry.
> 
> -Took forever to get access to a computer. I usually use my uni's computer lab, but since I just graduated, I had to save up and buy a laptop that doesn't lose wifi access randomly.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Hikaru no Go.
> 
> Pairings: AkiraxGo (wahahaha)
> 
> Warnings: Positive direction~!

**Chapter 13**

_A Partial Plait_

* * *

Shirakawa stared out over his top class of insei, having assumed the posture of a general about to lead his troops into battle. His arms were crossed over his chest, lips thinned into a sharp expression that matched the solemn atmosphere.

"In three months," he began, every word enunciated with deliberate severity. "The Pro Exam begins."

In the very back of the crowd, Shirakawa spied Honda miming a theatrical gasp. Duly ignoring the boy, the insei instructor's eyes moved from one young face to another; everyone seemed to know where this impromptu speech was heading and looked properly terrified over it.

_Good,_  Shirakawa thought meanly.

"We will be meeting every day on normal schedule, plus from 5pm to 8pm every Friday as well," Shirakawa said. It was a testament to the hold he had over his classroom that not one of them groaned at the extension. "A failure to show up here at any time means I will have a meeting with your parent or guardian."

Hikaru looked ready to start hyperventilating.

"The preliminaries will start in July, so those of you who are not in the top 16 spots will have to take that to qualify for the Pro Exams," the man instructed.

"Oh god I'm gonna throw up," someone muttered from the back.

Shirakawa took a relaxing breath, resuming his more genial look as his lips pulled up into an amiable smile. It was somewhat mollifying to see the way the kids instantly turned wary, some - namely Isumi and Nase - leaning away as if to hide themselves behind the go boards.

"I'm sure you know how disappointed I would be if my precious Class A students didn't at least try to enter the Pro Exams," he said with a tone meant to invoke guilt. "Because I would be just devastated if you didn't try. Very, very  _devastated_."

It was clear to all present that 'devastated' wasn't the correct description of the reaction Shirakawa would have if his demands were not met. He was met with a subdued silence and wide eyes. Honda was clearly enjoying himself, leaning forward to whisper into Fukui's ear with an expression of mock horror, "He's going to kill us!" Everyone else seemed to agree, with varying degrees of belief. Hikaru was edging closer into Waya's personal space, possibly hoping the older boy would explain how exactly the Pro Exams worked.

Shirakawa had noted that despite a vicious hand in Go, Fujiwara Meijin had neglected to teach his adopted son anything else involving the world of Go. What little Fujiwara Hikaru knew had clearly been gleaned from Ogata; the description of the Honinbou title-holder was so completely Seiji that Shirakawa hadn't been able to stop himself from laughing.

"I will be working one-on-one with each of you, starting with Fukui today." The boy drew himself up, impressive despite the way he looked ready to break down. Shirakawa continued on, "Split into pairs and start a game in the meanwhile. Even if you're top of the class here, you don't want to be caught off-guard should another Touya Akira be at the Pro Exams this year."

Waya flinched in irritation. Hikaru blinked, surprised at the familiar name. "What's wrong with facing Touya Akira?" he whispered to the older boy.

Waya scowled. "You haven't even heard of Touya Akira?"

_Why does everyone keep saying that?_  Hikaru wondered. "...he's the former Meijin's son, right? I know he's good and all, but it's not like strong opponents are unusual."

Ikeshita, on Hikaru's other side, gave him a strange look. "Touya's  _really_  strong, though. He was never an insei, he just went into the Pro Exams and easily defeated everyone there."

"Well, hasn't he been learning for a long time?" Hikaru pointed out.

"Yeah, Touya's not that special!" Waya agreed. "Fujiwara Meijin is far better, especially in terms of skill. He even started learning later in life than Touya but excelled way faster."

_Why is it that every Go pro I know seems to be super famous?_  Hikaru reflected miserably.

"Fujiwara Meijin doesn't count! That sort of strength is freakish!" Uchida chimed in.

Hikaru's head whipped around, snarl evident on his features. "Don't call him a freak!"

Uchida took an involuntary step back, surprised by the sudden acidic response. Waya and Ikeshita looked equally taken-aback, staring at the blond-banged boy as Hikaru realized his mistake in the unnecessarily harsh response. 

Honda laughed lightly from behind them, dropping a friendly hand on Hikaru's shoulder. "Yeah, Uchida-san - don't insult Fujiwara Meijin in front of his number one fan," he reprimanded teasingly, patting Hikaru on the head with a patronizing smirk. "Quickly, play a match with her and assert the dominance of your Fujiwara-inspired moves."

Uchida smiled nervously. "Er - that's okay, I already understand. Sorry, Fujiwara-kun."

"Sorry," Hikaru muttered, embarrassed by his own outburst. Waya only laughed, clapping Hikaru on the back. "So that's why you keep reading the Shuusaku books! Fujiwara Meijin's style is really similar, isn't it! He's even called the Modern Shuusaku."

"So I've heard," Hikaru managed out weakly. He supposed that Sai really was cool from an outsider's perspective; he was well-mannered, unbelievably strong in his profession, and had a penchant for equally dramatic and noble speeches should it be necessary.

Shirakawa had already taken aside Fukui, escorting him down the stairs and to his office. Isumi had been pulled away by Ikeshita, leaving Hikaru with the obvious choice for a partner being Waya or Honda. Mercifully, Honda wandered off to start picking on Maeda, sparing Hikaru the awkwardness of preferring one opponent over the other. Honda was passable but Waya was closer in level to the rapidly-ascending Hikaru, making him the better choice overall.

"Did you have any questions about the Pro Exams?" Waya asked, settling himself across the goban from Hikaru. "You're good at this game but you really don't know jack-shit outside of it."

_You're too honest,_  Hikaru thought dryly. That was one of the things Hikaru liked most about the older boy; Waya said what he thought, often times without a filter. This made him the most reliable source for Hikaru about anything Go-related that he didn't feel comfortable asking the adults in his life.

"Well, I'm in the top 16 now," Hikaru started, opening one of the goke. "So does that mean I don't have to take the preliminary exam?"

Waya grinned at him cheekily. "Lucky for you, you just barely made the cut. Looks like only Fukui has to go to the preliminaries." Here, the extroverted boy paused in feigned consideration. "You still have to get personally signed off by Shirakawa, though; he can hold back insei if he doesn't feel that they're actually ready."

"Fucking great," Hikaru muttered.

Waya gasped mockingly, "What vulgar language from a Class A insei!"

Hikaru almost told Waya to shove his own foot up where the sun doesn't shine, but stopped himself with a grimace. He knew it really wasn't proper - someone like Isumi, with his refined character, would never say something similar.

Waya laughed, light-hearted as he broke nigiri. "Geez, I'm just kidding with you. Don't be such a stick, it's too boring when you act like Touya."

_Which Touya was that?_  Hikaru wondered. Touya Akira certainly wasn't boring, after all. He screamed enough at Hikaru whenever they played a match at Heart of Stone that the blond-banged boy always marveled at the sight of the other boy looking poised now. Waya's words did somewhat mollify him though, inadvertently making him less self-conscious; the older insei was the laid-back type. The only time Hikaru ever felt pressured around Waya was when the boy desperately wanted to eat sushi for dinner.

"I'm going to pass the Pro Exam this year," Waya started. He earned the white stones, putting the goke to the side. Despite the casual tone of his words, his actions were careful, holding the confident grace of the insei class techniques in every movement. "I refuse to lose, even to you."

Hikaru nearly froze after that admission. Being so directly addressed was new, despite his standing in the insei institute. Hikaru suddenly realized - he was now seen as someone with superior skill. It was an alien idea; the thought of being high enough in skill to be warranted as a credible threat was new for Hikaru. Being so soundly beaten by the likes of Sai and Ogata whenever he played them was such a routine occurrence that Hikaru could hardly believe he was getting better at all.

Waya clearly did not share this view. Hikaru was more than an equal, he was a challenge; as long as Hikaru sat across the goban from him, he was an opponent of incredible skill. It was an exhilarating feeling of power.

"I won't lose either," Hikaru swore quietly.

Waya smiled. "I don't know, Fujiwara - I kind of have a more compelling reason," he teased. "You have no idea what I suffer through, seeing that maniac everyday either here or at my study group."

Hikaru grinned, the first genuine look he'd ever shared with the spiky-haired boy.

Isumi managed to snag the goban next to them, Ikeshita taking a seat across from the older boy with an unsure look on his face. He was clearly uncomfortable sitting so close to Class A's top tier in terms of strength, but the only other option was Nase and her quiet demolishing of Uchida's shapes in the row adjacent. At this point, he was just choosing the lesser evil.

Isumi was having his own attention grabbed by the painfully obvious omission in Shirakawa's earlier speech. "It's strange that Shirakawa-sensei didn't mention anything about the Young Lion's Tournament," Isumi pointed out, sharing a curious look with Waya. It was one thing for their instructor to be so focused on the Pro exams, but the fact that he'd neglected to mention anything involving the Young Lions Tournament when it was much closer and they had someone like Fujiwara Hikaru now in their class - Shirakawa had to have said nothing on  _purpose_ , and that was somehow more worrying.

"Well, who doesn't already know about it?" Ikeshita countered boredly. "You guys all qualified for it already anyway."

Luckily for Hikaru, Waya was already looking at him and thus caught the blatantly confused expression that came upon the blond-banged boy's face. This didn't stop the spiky-haired teen from sounding clearly disbelieving, however - just how little did Hikaru know about professional Go?

"You don't even know what the Young Lion's Tournament is, do you?" Waya stated, coming as close to a deadpan as the usually expressive boy could.

Hikaru muttered something uncomplimentary about Waya under his breath.

"Well, it's to be expected since you're new here," Isumi said with a placating smile. He shot Ikeshita a look close to a glare when the other boy wouldn't stop his gaping look.

Waya just sighed. "It's a tournament for insei and young Go pros. Class A's top 16 will be in it, along with an assortment of new pros. So you're already entered, unless you suddenly flunk out of Class A...or really get Shirakawa mad."

Hikaru stared at the other boy with very wide eyes.  _I'm...going to a Go tournament?_

* * *

"Eat your mushrooms, brat," Ogata scolded at dinner that night. The ninth-dan froze at the severely parental tone he'd used, horrified at himself.

Hikaru didn't even look up at him. He didn't do as told, either, which was somehow more galling to the bespectacled man for reasons he couldn't quite identify. Rizumu, who had been half-heartedly pushing around the food on his plate since it had been set in front of him, looked over at his friend. Sai had been thoroughly enjoying his dinner, sparing a glance every now and then directed at his unusually silent charge before he finally perked up.

"Did something happen today?" Sai asked carefully.

Hikaru picked up his mushroom with a dull look. "Not really," he lied. "Shirakawa-sensei extended class time, though."

"Oh, the examinations are coming up in a few months, aren't they?" Sai mused aloud, sounding almost as if he were talking to himself. "Did you want to study more with me, Hikaru?"

Hikaru turned his head so fast to look at him that Sai was taken-aback. "Could we?"

Sai blinked at him owlishly. "O-Of course! Just as long as you don't overwork yourself."

"I won't!" Hikaru negated quickly.

Rizumu proceeded to push half of his fish off of his plate and on to the table. "Liar," he called out boredly. "Three months is still far away. You aren't worried about whatever exam that is yet."

In some ways, Rizumu's continued presence was both a blessing and a curse. He was able to read Hikaru better than anybody else in the boy's life, a product of their close relationship and similar experiences. On the other hand, his very presence was an emotional setback; Hikaru teetered back and forth from healing to hurting with every careless word and action done by the russet-haired boy.

Ogata and Sai turned to look back at Hikaru, matching looks of comprehension eclipsing their features. "The Young Lion's Tournament is next month," Sai reasoned out slowly.

Ogata started to look a little strained himself.  _Akira's going to be in it too,_  he remembered. If he was lucky, Akira would be pressured into acting socially proper by the tournament setting. If he was unlucky, Akira would be too overcome by facing Hikaru in a tournament setting to care. Either way, Ogata would be killed by someone's overprotective guardian.

"Oh, Hikaru, there's no need to get so worked up over it!" Sai tried to comfort, ignorant of his friend's currently turbulent thoughts. "The Young Lion's Tournament is a great place to learn. You'll get to play matches against actual pros, and you can learn so much from their games and their different playing styles!"

Sai was careful not to mention winning or losing. It didn't matter to him if Hikaru did either, as long as he enjoyed himself and tried to better himself through such an experience. He just had to phrase it in such a way that Hikaru would look forward to the tournament rather than dread it.

And strangely, it actually  _worked_. From the way Sai spoke of it, it almost sounded...fun. It was basically the same thing he'd be doing in the insei program, except now he had more opponents that were of higher skill. His previous pro opponents were helpful in this regard: Ogata, while vitriolic, was still fun to play games against and instrumental in Hikaru's development of fuseki. Touya Akira was bitingly competitive and the only one Hikaru actually felt compelled to crush on the goban. Sai was  _Sai_  - a monstrous force in Go but the only one Hikaru would ever trust enough to listen to so whole-heartedly.

When it came down to it, those he had already met from the Go Pro world were far more sincere and inviting than anyone else in his short life had been to him. It's just other kids, Hikaru remembered with some small measure of comfort. It was a tournament full of people like Isumi and Waya, not people like Masaki or Tomorou - what did Hikaru have to fear from that?

Ogata scowled, "Eat your damn mushrooms."

Once Hikaru had cleared his plate and somehow got Rizumu to eat about one-third of his own meal, Ogata herded the kids into cleaning up the table and dishes. This left Sai to go back to his own room to prepare his clothes for tomorrow.

Given that the two boys were sharing Sai's bed and that Rizumu's condition was so delicate, Sai had opted to start sleeping on the couch again. (Perhaps he should have moved into a bigger apartment after all.) Initially, he'd tried to help once Rizumu started showing the more severe withdrawal symptoms: acute agitation, nausea, a near-uncontrollable jitteriness that made Sai wonder if it was better to enroll his newest houseguest into a program rather than attempt anything alone.

Ogata had pointed out that they would need Rizumu's parents' permission, but according to the russet-haired boy - he didn't have parents. Rizumu didn't have  _anything_ : family, an education, anything even remotely resembling he'd been accustomed to a life outside of the Gate. He didn't know how to interact with adults who weren't interested in his 'services' so he chose not to interact at all. Sai's efforts to help had been completely ignored, Rizumu refusing to acknowledge any hand held out to help him that was not Hikaru.

There would be nights where Sai would wake up to find Rizumu seated at the entrance, staring at the front door but otherwise unmoving. Sai thought that was the addiction - Rizumu wanted whatever substance he'd been hooked on but would stop at the front door. The boy never left, not once since he'd been taken under Sai's roof. Sai didn't believe it was out of anything like perseverance. Honestly, Rizumu probably just didn't know what he was hooked on - he lacked the words to describe it and Sai doubted he was ever given the name.

The help that the real version of Mitani needed was something that Sai wasn't sure he could provide. It was psychological but also physical; chemicals had destroyed just as much of the boy as his patrons had. Even then, it would still take time: to find a program, to find a guardian, to file the documents that would give Rizumu an identity outside of the nightlife.

Rizumu was right, back when he'd said he wasn't like Hikaru - he didn't hide, he just  _didn't exist_.

Once Sai finished setting up tomorrow's preparations for himself, he came out just in time to see Hikaru drag his friend into the bathroom. Slowly coming down the hall to give the boys enough time to close and lock the bathroom door behind them, Sai emerged into the living room to the sight of Ogata starting up Hikaru's laptop.

Sai stared at him blandly. "Really, Seiji, you may as well move in since you just make yourself so comfortable here."

Ogata didn't even look up, "I made dinner so I'm already a honorary member of the household."

"We have honorary membership now?" Sai muttered to himself in good humor, coming over to see what his friend was doing. The laptop took several minutes to boot up so Sai took the adjacent seat, watching the lights play across his friend's glasses.

Ogata looked...tired. Sai knew why - between leaving Sai's place late and coming in (more like barging in, Sai still hadn't figured out how) to make breakfast early, the ninth-dan couldn't be getting much sleep. He ignored all of Sai's platitudes for him not to bother, throwing back phrases like "a normal routine for the brats" and "food they can actually stomach" that made Sai's arguments fall flat.

Sai couldn't even offer his friend the couch anymore, as he'd taken up that post, so Ogata could no longer sleep over. Ogata never complained about the arrangement, which made Sai feel all the guiltier. Sai had been the one to agree to take Rizumu in, despite knowing it wasn't the best decision for either himself or Hikaru. He'd been the one that decided on all of these extra responsibilities, yet here Ogata was - helping shoulder the burden as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Seiji," Sai started quietly. "You're the type to spoil your friends, aren't you?"

It was the only way to explain it. No matter how thorny a front Ogata put up, he really was one of the kindest people Sai had ever met. No one else would so willingly give up their own time and energy just to help their friend to such an extent, after all; it was no wonder the ninth-dan could keep company so easily despite the harshness of his words.

Ogata was giving him another one of those strange looks. "What the hell are you going on about?" he scoffed. He was about to say that he wasn't the type to spoil anyone, let alone friends - Ashiwara and Shirakawa were testament of that fact - but the words died an early death when Sai reached forward to cup the side of his face, one thumb delicately sweeping over the lines that had started to develop at the edge of his eyes.

"I'm sorry that I continue to ask so much of you, Seiji," Sai said. "But thank you for everything."

There was never a part of Sai that Ogata would shy away from; his muddled history, his strange beginning, the tangled branches of his family tree that Sai preferred never to speak about - all of these Ogata learned about slowly and took in stride. Sai knew they were nothing alike, as the more he learned of his friend, the more endearing Ogata became: learning cooking from his mother just to be helpful, having experience with drug addiction because of the friends he had back in school, being kind and patient despite his own circumstances because that's what his father had taught him.

Ogata had evolved from his own experiences, from his own gains and losses, and he'd come out stronger and kinder than anyone else Sai had known. His words could cut but they were honest, and Ogata listened and tried to understand no matter how badly he disagreed at times.

Sai had never known anyone as dear to him as an equal more than Ogata Seiji.

The Meijin withdrew his hand, before shaking his head with a soft smile. "I'll buy a futon," he decided. At least then Ogata would have the option of staying over reinstated.

Ogata stared at him for a long moment, clearly missing whatever jump in thought processes Sai had just gone through. His mouth opened and closed a few times as if he were struggling to get the words out, a tell-tale blush developing once again.

_This man-!_  Ogata thought in another moment of mixed elation and confusion. It was amazing to the ninth-dan, how Sai could be so dense about the most obvious of things yet still find just the rights words to say that only further enamored him to the bespectacled man.

"What were you going to do on the laptop?" Sai asked, prompting the other man into motion once again. Ogata stared at the screen for a moment. In light of what Sai had just pulled, he couldn't adequately remember what he had been planning to do. A beat later, Ogata was tapping away at the keys.

"Do you watch all of the brat's NetGo games?" he asked after a moment, pulling up the familiar website and logging in.

Sai shook his head, "No, I thought it would be better for him to be independent in that regard. He recreates the games for me if he found them especially challenging, though."

Hopefully Hikaru hadn't taken the idea that his usually-caustic game discussion with Ogata in their first NetGo game was the norm. Sai didn't know the website's rules that well, but there was probably a rule against that kind of talk after matches.

Ogata was quiet as he was pulled into his homepage. To the Meijin's surprise, instead of going to deal with the multitude of game requests that were waiting for him, Ogata moved into the discussion forum of the site.

"Sai," Ogata started. "That brat - it may be an amateur's hand, but he plays with a style similar to your's…"

Sai's eyes moved over the page, but Ogata was quicker: he clicked on the first discussion topic, bolded in fiery red to denote it as the most popular on the page by far. The page loaded almost agonizingly slow but it was the title that caught Sai's attention as the first page bled into view.

**NetGo user wisteria**   _(1, 2, 3...63, 64, 65)_

"I don't think he goes on the discussion forums," Ogata said, after he deemed Sai had enough time to digest the idea of what was before him. "As far as I have seen, no one's gotten a reply from him after matches unless they want to talk about the game. If they ask anything personal, they're shut out and ignored completely."

Ogata scrolled further down the page. For the most part, it all looked to be records of Hikaru's NetGo matches during the time he'd started as an insei; he'd likely started picking up notoriety when he had winning streaks against fairly competent players.

"The first few dozen or so are just his games against amateurs, taken from a previous thread that was about Shuusaku's influence. For awhile, it was easier to believe he was just an amateur that had taken a liking to your idol," Ogata explained. "But then  _this_ happened."

He clicked forward onto page 46, focusing on one post by the user  **GeniusMichiyuki** : it was one of Hikaru's better NetGo games in a side-by-side comparison with one of Sai's earliest pro Games. The difference in their abilities was clear - but so were the similarities in their playing style. The poster of this comparison made his point clear with only one sentence:  _"I see more in common here than just a love of Shuusaku."_

Sai's sharp inhale of breath was the only clue Ogata needed to continue on.

"It's nothing but more comparisons and dissections of his games after that," the ninth-dan said lowly. "They throw your name around more than Shuusaku now. His username really isn't helping him either."

Sai's hands clenched into fists in his lap.

He wasn't ashamed Hikaru, nothing even close - but he had to take his charge's disposition into account. Even Hikaru in the dreamverse had not wanted the notoriety that came attached to Sai's online celebrity status, and it would be so much worse for the real Hikaru in the face of Sai's very real significance in the actual Go world. It was one thing for Hikaru to gain the confidence in himself as a Go player before publicly taking on the mantle of Sai's protégé within the Go pro community - it was another to have it foisted onto him when he lacked any sort of self-esteem at all.

"Don't people have better things to do than go looking for ghosts?" Sai murmured to himself.

Ogata logged out soon after, shutting down the laptop with a sigh. "He doesn't know anything about it for now - at least, nothing he's mentioned to me. All I hear from him is constant complaints about the number of game requests he gets these days."

Sai unclenched his fists, looked at his palm to watching the fading crescents left by his fingernails disappear. "There'd be no point in restricting his access," he mused aloud. "He'd likely only see it as a punishment, or if he finds out why, then he'd think I was ashamed."

"We'll just have to take the chance and hope he won't stumble across it," Ogata concluded with a dour look.

_Chance and hope_ , Sai thought grievously.  _Is that what all I can do is boiled down to?_

* * *

"What do you and Sai talk about?"

Hikaru had kept his tone intentionally casual and his eyes straight ahead, but quickly regretted this front when Rizumu met his eyes squarely. Even in the darkness of the bedroom with nothing but Sai's bedside clock acting as illumination, Hikaru felt as if his friend was seeing too much.

"We don't talk," Rizumu answered shortly. At some point they had silently agreed to kick off the sheets so that they laid together unhidden, pillows nearly overlapping as their bowed heads were scant millimeters from touching. It was difficult for Hikaru to sleep with someone so close, especially during the night hours when he felt most vulnerable; the atmosphere of safety Sai had taken so long to painstakingly establish was being sacrificed by his charge for Rizumu.

"Why?" Hikaru asked after a moment. He could kind of understand Rizumu's recalcitrant attitude - he'd found Sai annoying and nosy at first too, uncomfortable with the man's naive disposition and unclear intentions. Hikaru had hoped that by vouching for Sai's sincerity, Rizumu would have opened up quicker - but this was clearly not the case.

Rizumu's breath blew across his face, a sigh of exasperation. "What am I supposed to talk to him about?"

"I dunno, whatever you want, I guess," Hikaru hedged unsurely. He'd become so accustomed to conversing with Sai that Hikaru rarely found himself uncomfortable. The man always had a way of speaking that suggested he was open and interested in just about anything Hikaru had to say and was never shy in initiating conversations on his own.

" _Whatever_  I want?" Rizumu echoed, a mocking tint to the words.

Hikaru flicked the other boy in the chest. "Don't be an asshole," he muttered.

Rizumu snickered, one hand moving up to intertwine their fingers in a tight grip. He bent Hikaru's hand back in an awkward show of force, prompting a small hiss from the blond-banged boy. Hikaru lightly kicked his friend in the ankles as a warning, but Rizumu only released their interlocked hands to harshly pinch Hikaru in the side. With a small squawk, Hikaru's back hit the wall as he attempted to escape. Rizumu laughed aloud this time, following Hikaru's hasty movement backwards.

"Hey, you know," Rizumu started, clinging so close to Hikaru that their breaths practically mingled. It was almost suffocatingly warm now, Hikaru uncomfortably aware of Rizumu's hands wrapping around his waist. "That new dad of your's - I don't think he likes me much."

If it had been concerning anyone else, Hikaru would have told Rizumu that it wasn't worth his time and energy to care. However, when the person in question was Sai - it was actually rather laughable. The idea that Sai disliked anyone, much less another kid like Hikaru, was so impossible for Hikaru to understand that he actually believed his friend was just mocking him again.

"The only one who needs to like you is me anyway, so what do you care?" Hikaru snorted, playful. He didn't quite mean it in its entirety but some part of him knew Rizumu well enough to see that the other boy didn't have a very high opinion of anyone. Rizumu hummed noncommittally before tucking his head into the crook of Hikaru's neck, a nonverbal cue that he was done with the conversation.

"...did you really just refer to Sai as my dad?"

Rizumu kicked him in the shin in reply.

* * *

"I should have stayed home today," Hikaru mused, sounding almost pained.

Isumi glanced over at him, flashing him a comforting smile before turning back to his study materials and silently confirming that  _yes_ , Hikaru was essentially doomed. When even the kind-hearted Isumi Shinichirou could not muster up an adequate thing to say to at least comfort his friend, then there was no redemption.

"It's not that bad," Nase said, but gave way to the lie with a pained wince. "I-I mean, once you get over having his undivided attention, you actually do learn a lot!"

Hikaru looked at the girl, glanced back at the insei instructor who was standing near the entrance and reading one of his files - the one clearly labelled 'Fujiwara Hikaru' - with a smirk, and then turned his morose gaze back out the window. "I could jump out this window and hitting the pavement three stories below would still be less painful," Hikaru observed.

"You'll be fine, it's not like you're Waya!" Honda pointed out cheerfully, ignoring said boy's disgruntled grumble.

"And at least you'll get to show off how nice you look today!" That was Fukui, ever the beacon of optimism.

Hikaru smiled at the younger boy, preening a bit. "See, this is why I like you, Fukui - you're always ready with a compliment."

"Fukui, don't inflate his ego!" Waya warned mockingly. "Any more ego in this room and we'd suffocate."

"Shut up, cargo pants, no one asked you," Hikaru snipped back.

A thick folder came down to smack the blond-banged boy on the back of the head. "If you're done playing with Waya, Fujiwara-kun, come to my office," Shirakawa ordered, turning on his heel and moving out of the room.

Hikaru's eyes widened and with one last pleading look sent back at his friends (who all resolutely turned elsewhere with a vast range of expressions, the traitors), Hikaru sulkily followed the insei instructor into the office. He stood waiting in front of the instructor's desk but stiffened when Shirakawa shut the office door, going past the boy and around the front of his desk. Settling into his office chair, Shirakawa plopped Hikaru's folder on to the top of his desk without looking up at the room's other occupant. With a negligent wave for Hikaru to take the open seat, he didn't notice the insei's stiff movements to do as silently instructed.

This was the first time Hikaru had been left alone with Shirakawa with the door closed. During their first meeting, Shirakawa had left his office door open and Hikaru had never been back in since then. Now, with the door closed behind him, the two meters between Hikaru's chair and the doorway seemed too far away. Shirakawa was too close, which if Hikaru thought about more critically, was absolutely ridiculous - Shirakawa had to be seated more than a meter away. He was also behind that behemoth of a structure he called a desk.

Uneasiness grew in the pit of Hikaru's stomach; it was one thing to have Shirakawa's undivided attention, it was another to be alone in a closed room with him. The boy wondered when he began to feel so anxious when alone in a room with another person - it was never like this with anyone else his age, nor with Sai or Ogata. There was no reason to feel this agitated. Hikaru knew this in a clinical way; the man in front of him was a respected teacher, had never made any moves that could be regarded as inappropriate (at least in a sexual light, as far as Hikaru knew), and more than that - he was a friend of Ogata's. Ogata wouldn't put Hikaru in harm's way.

Logically, Hikaru knew all of this.

His heart remained beating traitorously fast in his chest and his hands felt clammy with sweat. As the sound of the other insei just outside the office door began to fade away, Hikaru started to feel as if his body were not his own - his skin felt wrong, almost like it had been pulled on and stretched to fit him. His limbs were alien attachments left to rest against the chair, the breath he drew in and out a conscious movement that he fantasized about stopping.

For one horrifying moment, Hikaru stopped feeling _real_.

Although Shirakawa had been reading through the records of Hikaru's insei games well before in preparation for their one-on-one meeting, he felt the need to at least see it again with his own eyes. The kifu papers now spread out over his desk held all of the instructor's attention at the moment and he sifted through them with casual efficiency.

If he hadn't been keeping such careful watch on his batch of troublesome Class A insei, Shirakawa wouldn't have believed it himself. No matter the level of skill a mentor had, the greatest factor in a student's learning was the student themselves. A willingness to learn, the determination to keep going, as well as the talent needed to give them that extra edge - these affected the progress any student could make.

"Lately, I've come to wonder more often than not," Shirakawa began, pulling out two different kifu records from the assortment. "Where Fujiwara Meijin found someone like you."

Hikaru shifted uncomfortably. He needed to focus on the instructor's words to bring himself back but it was painfully slow. It felt surreal if Hikaru focused too long on himself; he'd moved his gaze to his fingers, wondered how much control he had over his own flesh and blood. He needed to bring his mind back to the present moment, remind himself of what was currently happening around him. 

_I am here, I am here, I am here,_  Hikaru thought desperately.

Setting most of the kifu papers to the side, Shirakawa placed the chosen two between them. "This one," he pointed. "Is from the first week when you started in Class A. It's your match against Honda. The other is your latest game against him."

It took awhile for Hikaru to focus on the games. This was comfortable territory - Hikaru knew the lines of the goban, understood where he stood on that plane. He tried to pull himself away from the office seating, from Shirakawa, from the closed door. As long as he didn't remind himself of those factors, his heartbeat would begin to settle.

"Fujiwara-kun, do you see the difference?" Shirakawa asked softly.

Hikaru did. "I got better at yose," he observed slowly. It was a valid statement; he'd been particularly weak in that area since he'd first started. His consistent games with Sai had helped build up his aptitude in that area, moreso with the number of scathing observations from Ogata.

Shirakawa snorted. "Yes, you did," he agreed, his tone suggesting that wasn't what he saw. "But you also got better  _overall_. People would think you've been playing Go since you started elementary school."

Hikaru stared at him. It didn't take much to see that he wasn't quite understanding what the insei instructor was getting at with that comment.

_This child-!_  Shirakawa thought in a rare moment of sheer incredulity.  _Why is it when it comes to himself, he isn't aware of anything!_

"Hikaru-kun," Shirakawa began, using the boy's first name. Just as he knew it would, Hikaru startled. "You're playing with  _years-worth_  of skill after only  _10 months_  of learning."

Hikaru wasn't even looking at the games now. "Sai-san is a good teacher," he deferred uncomfortably. Wasn't it only natural to get better when he was playing constant games with the Go World's superstar? Touya Akira was at a much greater level of skill after playing with his own father, after all - Hikaru's ascent wasn't that odd.

Shirakawa's look was borderline irritated. "I could make Waya play games with your adoptive father for a year straight and while he will undoubtedly improve, it would be nothing compared to how  _you_  have improved."

"But I still need to improve," Hikaru pointed out. Shirakawa was insinuating compliments, which sent a roll of shuddering discomfort down the length of Hikaru's body.  _Just agree and this will end quicker,_  he thought to himself.  _Just get it over with-_

Shirakawa gave him an odd look. "Well yes, of course you still need to improve," he allowed slowly. He'd thought starting off kindly, with a show of appreciating how prodigious Hikaru really was, would be the best way of conducting their one-on-one conference. Shirakawa knew to approach every insei differently; what it took to inspire Waya was different from what it would take to inspire Fukui, for example. He had pegged Fujiwara Hikaru as someone who needed assurances he was doing good first. From their first meeting, Shirakawa had noticed how lowly the boy thought of himself - he'd hoped Hikaru would have gained some confidence in his string of wins against the other insei. He seemingly had, for awhile at least; his growing comfort with Waya and the others had been evident of the fact that Hikaru was coming into his own as an insei and as a Go player.

So why was the boy so resistant now? Some people didn't take compliments well, but this wasn't humility or awkwardness that Hikaru showed - it was plain uneasiness, as if the act of being nice was inherently distrustful.

_Am I really that mean to him?_  Shirakawa wondered for a moment. He knew his reputation well but even his own personal brand of sadism wasn't  _that_  pronounced. Really, the only one who had any right to look at him so suspiciously would be Waya. Now that he was paying attention, he could see just how tense the boy was; it wasn't unusual for an insei to be so stressed when directly under his eye but there was an unnecessary level of tension to Hikaru that was uncalled for in this situation.

"Your clever plays are exemplary but you tend to rely on them too much," Shirakawa advised. "You shouldn't play them just because you can, or you'll find that you have given up a major point on the goban. For example," Shirakawa went through the files again, pulling out the record of Hikaru's match against Isumi. "Here, when Isumi was able to build a credible wall against you. You lost before the endgame here."

Hikaru remembered that. If Isumi hadn't been so humble about his win and genial afterwards, Hikaru likely would have hung onto that particular loss sorely. He'd been especially careful in his games against the older boy after that.

"I'm really just no good," Hikaru muttered to himself, eyes on the kifu paper. He tried to learn his best from his losses - god knows he'd lost enough against both Sai and Ogata at this point - but it was still somewhat painful to have his weaknesses so openly displayed and picked apart like this.

Shirakawa sighed. "Why on earth would you say something like that? Learning isn't a smooth, easy process - you're going to mess up and get bumped around just as badly as everyone else."

The instructor pulled out another game, Hikaru's latest win against Isumi. "I just spent the first five minutes of this conference telling you how great you're doing. When you put yourself down so easily like that - it's an insult to those who hold you in high esteem, you know?"

Hikaru remembered that he was generally seen as someone with credible skill within the insei program; people had started treating him with the same level of respect they gave the stronger insei such as Waya and Isumi now. Within the context of the insei, Hikaru was a member that was enough of a challenge to warrant the wariness of his peers.

Shirakawa placed all of the scattered papers back into Hikaru's file, standing up to put it away. He was surprised when the action earned him a quick backpedal from the boy; Hikaru's chair screeched at the child's sudden backwards motion and he only managed to keep upright with his fast reflexes. Shirakawa blinked at him, momentarily startled, but said nothing as he slowly moved to the side where his filing cabinets were and put the file away.  _Slowly_.

When he returned to his seat and dutifully made no mention of Hikaru's strange display, he pulled a tabletop goban out from under his desk and placed it between them, along with the goke. Hikaru had seemingly calmed down at the sight of it, moving his chair back into its original position.

"Let's play a match to gauge your skill," Shirakawa suggested, although it was more of an order. "How many stones do you put down when you play Fujiwara-sensei?"

Hikaru stared at him blankly.

Shirakawa's measured look slowly morphed into one bordering on worried. "...please tell me you put stones down when you play Fujiwara-sensei."

"I put four stones down when I play Ogata-san," Hikaru offered mildly.

Well, at least Shirakawa could tell about how many stones Hikaru would have to put down for him. (Two stones, maybe, but Shirakawa was going to make Seiji's life especially hectic out of spite.) This didn't exactly mollify him, however, nor did it quell the rising feel of apprehension.

"Hikaru-kun, are you telling me you don't play with a handicap against Fujiwara-sensei?" Shirakawa asked with the vaguest sense of delicacy.

Hikaru's look of sincere confusion was unsettling. "He always wins anyway, it doesn't really matter if I have a handicap or not." The boy paused in thought. "He never offered one so I always thought that was how Go was taught, once you finally got around to actually playing a decent game that is."

Shirakawa uncapped the goke mechanically.

_Fujiwara-sensei... I suddenly understand why you never taught anyone else before,_  Shirakawa realized with a dawning sense of horror. What kind of merciless tyrant mentors someone with that kind of technique?

Hikaru uncapped his own goke, expression falling into its usual predatory concentration.

No wonder someone like Hikaru had come about - if it had been anyone else, Fujiwara Sai would have torn them to shreds before they had even thought about going pro.

* * *

Staring down into his bento box, Hikaru thought critically about the current circumstances of his life. He wondered if perhaps he'd done something recently to earn this type of ridiculous punishment but nothing really came to mind, and he thus felt safe in assuming that he himself was not at fault.

This meant that Ogata Seiji was a sadistic asshole.

"Wow," was Kaneko's only comment.

Kaneko's friend - Suzuki Tomomi - leaned over from her own desk. The three of them had their desks pulled together for lunch time after Kaneko made clear to her friends that she intended to eat with the blond-banged boy. A few of her friends had elected to eat lunch in the cafeteria but Suzuki had decided to stick out their lunch hour with Kaneko and her newfound friend.

"It's so cute!" Suzuki marveled. "Did you do it yourself, Fujiwara-kun?"

Hikaru looked seconds away from stabbing his chopsticks into his lunch. "No," he replied lowly.

The smirk on Kaneko's lips was more amused than teasing. She took a bite from the steak sandwich she had bought for lunch, clearly thoroughly enjoying the boy's discomfort.

Hikaru had slept in this morning, having been kept up most of the night by Rizumu. His russet-haired friend had been suffering especially bad that night, plainly irritable one moment and immobile from pain the next. Hikaru had maybe clocked in about three hours of sleep total, even though he'd been expecting less since Ogata always dragged him out of bed when he arrived for their routine morning cooking lessons. It had been a surprising change to wake up later than the norm, and Hikaru had only managed a quick breakfast before he had to leave if he wanted to make it on time for school.

Ogata had handed him the bento box just as he'd pulled on his shoes. It was a new addition, since Hikaru had been buying lunch at school with the allowance Sai gave him. Hikaru had wondered if the bespectacled man had found out that Hikaru had been skipping lunch in order to save the allowance money for Rizumu - a very real possibility, all things considered. Ogata could be just as hawk-eyed as Sai sometimes.

Still, Hikaru couldn't decide if this was something that he should have expected. On one hand, it was disgustingly cute - it was a Totoro-themed bento lunch, for god's sake. (There had to be more than a dozen small, Totoro-esque onigiri, along with fresh cherry tomatoes kept pinned together with a colorful heart toothpick.) On another hand, this type of petty revenge absolutely fit Ogata.

"Who made it for you, your mom?" Kaneko asked boredly.

Hikaru picked up the catbus-model onigiri with a wry grin. "Yeah, I guess she's still tetchy from work." He popped the piece into his mouth.

Well, at least it still tasted good.

* * *

"This is a great idea," Ogata said in a tone suggesting the complete opposite. He was palming the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, the only thing stopping him from a venture in chain-smoking being Sai's critical eyes flicking over to him.

"There's not much choice," Sai replied. "If we leave them here, they'll never leave this apartment."

It was one thing to let Hikaru decide how to spend his Saturday afternoon, but ever since Rizumu's untimely arrival, the boy hardly left the apartment except when necessary. Sai wouldn't allow his charge to neglect all of his new friends in favor of an old one; he'd put in too much effort to let it all turn to naught.

Although even Sai could admit that deciding to take Hikaru and Rizumu along to the Touya house was a foolhardy move. Even if Akiko wasn't quite as stringent in mannerisms as her husband and child, there was still an atmosphere of higher standard that hung about the home. Sai was familiar with such a lifestyle, having grown up in one far harsher - for Hikaru, however, the closest experience he would have to visiting someone else's home was hardly a pleasant experience to compare with.

Ogata's reply was cut off by Rizumu finally emerging from the bedroom in black, knee-length overalls with a lime green long-sleeved shirt underneath. His usually sleep-mussed hair had instead been artfully scrunched with a light application of hair gel, looking more like he'd intentionally gone for the windblown look. The bags under his eyes were less pronounced, more out of the make-up Hikaru had likely applied rather than from any improvement in sleeping patterns.

_It's a little eerie, just how good they are at hiding,_  Ogata thought as he looked over the russet-haired boy. He didn't look nearly as sickly as he really was and the clothes actually hid all of his scars and other markings. Even his cracked nails had been taken care of - Hikaru really had needed those four hours to get ready. He had somehow managed to give his friend a manicure, as well as apply enough skin creams and make-up to mask an otherwise disingenuous appearance.

"What a nice color on you, Rizumu-kun!" Sai exclaimed happily.

Rizumu rubbed his hands down his arms, looking almost self-conscious. "Any color would look good on me after all those fucking gray sweatpants," he said derisively. The loaned wardrobe he'd received were a mesh of the sweatpants and sweatshirts Sai had once given Hikaru, as well as some of Hikaru's own outfits. As Rizumu was leery of taking any more colorful outfits away from Hikaru's wardrobe, he'd been left with Sai's appalling lack of taste to wear.

"Why is it either gray or neon with you people?" Ogata pointed out.

"Not everyone owns a white suit," Hikaru said, coming out from Sai's bedroom.

Ogata didn't know what had changed from Hikaru's first attempt at emulating the Touya Akira style, but presently the boy had hit some middle-ground between that and his initial femme style. He'd pulled on khaki shorts that ended just above the knee and a long-sleeved collared shirt whose top half was olive green while the rest was a soft cream color, which was all very Touya-esque, but he was also carrying a pair of brown leather ankle-boots with a slight heel in his hand. His hair had been pulled into a dutch braid, blond strands flowing into black hair in a stark color scheme.

_I wonder where he shops_ , Ogata mused distantly.

"Hikaru, you're so well-matched," Sai said glowingly. The man was never short on compliments when it came to his charge and Ogata himself even wondered if the man ever found the boy's tastes to be peculiar. Given his customary reactions, he was leaning to a 'no.'

"Are we taking the bus?" Hikaru asked, pulling on his boots at the entrance. Rizumu was bent down next to him, clumsily attempting to tie the shoelaces of his own converse shoes before Hikaru shooed his hands away and did it for him.

Sai shook his head, making no comment on the small interaction. "Seiji kindly offered to drive us," he said pleasantly.

Rizumu muttered something under his breath but Ogata only caught the tail-end of a  _"love for you to ride-"_  before Hikaru hastily elbowed his friend in the side.

Ogata gave both boys a piercing look behind Sai's back.

* * *

The ride to the Touya household would have been quiet, but apparently Ogata wasn't going to allow Hikaru to wallow in his own thoughts since he'd filled the silence with snide remarks the boy couldn't help respond back to in kind. How Ogata managed to win in their banter with a taunting call of "Totoro!" was beyond Sai, but Hikaru had blushed furiously in response and elicited a laughing huff from the otherwise quiet form of Rizumu.

"You've already met Akira-kun, isn't that right?" Sai began supportively as the quartet stepped out of Ogata's car. "He takes after his parents so there's no need to be nervous!"

...why did Hikaru have such a foreboding look on his face? And for that matter, why did  _Ogata_  look so baffled?

"Do we know the same Akira?" Ogata asked in disbelief.

That seemed to be more in line with whatever Hikaru was thinking where Touya Akira was concerned. "If he's like his parents, I'm not going in there," he stated frankly. Hikaru could only handle one Touya Akira in his life - having three people raging at him about his tesuji use would make him snap.

Sai was flabbergasted. "Akira-kun is always so well-behaved when I see him though?"

Hikaru snorted. "He threw a Go stone at me after I told him he agreed with me five times straight."

"He used to do that to my fish when he was younger," Ogata added.

"He said I dressed like a girl."

"He called me an old man when I complained about back pain after carrying him around all day when he was four."

"When we got ramen that one time, he picked out all of his green onion and put it in my bowl when I wasn't looking-"

Rizumu rang the doorbell for them, since Sai was too busy listening on with an expression of scandalization. It was opened in a matter of seconds, Touya Akiko standing ready to greet them with polite courtesy. Behind her a scant few steps away was Akira, as well as the former Meijin Kouyo. It took only a moment for Sai to regain his bearings, especially as Rizumu didn't do anything besides stare boredly straight past Akiko's shoulder without a single word of hello. "Oh, good afternoon! We apologize for intruding but thank you for inviting us," he greeted cheerfully.

Ogata and Hikaru echoed the sentiments, the latter pulling Rizumu back since he already knew that the russet-haired boy wouldn't bother with the courtesy. Rizumu had simply never learned it and wasn't particularly interested in following the custom.

Akiko stepped aside to allow her guests to enter, eyes lingering over the two young boys that followed her house's usual visitors. When she had first learned from her son of Fujiwara Sai's new student, she'd been curious; when she had learned from Ogata that he was also the current Meijin's adopted son, that curiosity had turned into an invested interest. This may have had something to do with Akira's newfound enthusiasm (of which she had a nagging feeling of  _something_ ), but the idea that her husband's young work-rival had adopted someone seemingly out of nowhere was worrisome.

And why were there  _two_  boys now?

"Allow me to introduce these two," Sai started brightly, one hand settled on the shoulder of the boy with blond bangs. "This is my student, Hikaru, and his friend Rizumu."

Hikaru bowed politely, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Rizumu's expression never changed from docile indifference and he didn't look inclined to bow either, but Ogata came up next to him with a hand on the shoulder, basically leading Rizumu into a small bow.

"He's still learning," Ogata explained, drawing his hand away from the russet-haired boy.

"Rizumu doesn't really know any etiquette," Hikaru piped up nervously.

"I know lots of other things though," Rizumu muttered. Hikaru smacked him lightly in the arm in admonishment but Sai had already stepped forward to essentially commandeer attention.

"Work-in-progress," Sai explained with a weak smile.

Akiko nodded in understanding, expression kind. "Please make yourselves comfortable," she deferred before she turned to address both her husband and Sai at the same time. "Were you going to play a game today?"

If it had been just Ogata and Hikaru with him, Sai would have agreed instantly. However, with Rizumu also present and not very interested in anything Go-related, he doubted he'd be able to put up a decent fight against his rival with that kind of attention divide.

Still, it was surprising to see Touya Kouyo gently refuse. "We thought we'd discuss our last game for a bit," the stern man said.

Akira edged away from his father, smile wide and polite. "Mother made enough food for an army anyway, it's likely going to take us all night to put a dent in it," he commented.

Hikaru came up to Sai's side, looking almost excited as his eyes fell on Kouyo's countenance. "Oh, that's right - weren't you the Meijin before Sai, Touya-san?"

"Touya-sensei," Sai corrected gently.

"Touya-sensei," Hikaru instantly parroted.

Kouyo nodded. "He deserved the title far more than I did. It was the best game I've ever played," the man returned solemnly. Hikaru's eyes evaluated the Touya patriarch; he was dressed formally even while indoors, his back was straight along with his posture, and his expression seemed permanently set in a strict but intense expression.

"...hey, doesn't he look way cooler than you, Sai-san?" Hikaru finally noted.

Sai's head whipped around, expression pitiful. "Hikaru! I'm plenty cool!"

Ogata choked back what sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"Oh, why don't I make some tea?" Akiko said, ushering the older men out of the foyer and into the house proper. She glanced over her shoulder with a wide smile and Akira straightened on reflex; she'd raised her son properly, after all. "Akira, why don't you take Hikaru-kun and Rizumu-kun to the game room?"

Rizumu looked over at the Touya boy. "What's in the game room?"

"Probably a goban, the love of Akira's life," Hikaru snickered.

Ogata watched the trio of boys trail into the hallway and out of sight, Akira's retort too low to be discerned by the adults. Whatever the reply was, it had the effect of prompting a short burst of laughter from Hikaru; at the very least, the blond-banged boy was in good spirits today.

Ogata had not been as keen as the energetic Meijin for this meeting; Touya Akira was one thing for Hikaru, but with the addition of the boy's problematic friend, the ninth-dan had been hesitant to leave Touya Kouyo's straightlaced son in the other two's clutches. Ogata knew Hikaru was scathing but he wasn't as blatantly hateful as Rizumu; the russet-haired boy held affection for no one and nothing else but Hikaru.

However, if these last two weeks were any indication, Hikaru was the only one that acted as a restraint on the other Gate worker. Rizumu's spiteful words were kept unspoken while Hikaru was present, as if even the russet-haired boy was scared of offending Hikaru in any way. This only truly became unsettling when Ogata realized the boy would focus on Hikaru almost exclusively - if Hikaru was within view, the rest of the world fell away for Rizumu.

It was drastically unhealthy, even for Hikaru: that kind of responsibility, now matter how implicit, was clearly wearing down on him. The increase in small knick-knacks Ogata had seen around Sai's apartment had left him wondering about their origin, as Sai had never bought anything as childish as coloring books and puzzles for his charge. Sai had upped Hikaru's allowance recently to help with Rizumu's adjustment, but that nagging feeling at the back of Ogata's mind would not be alleviated, so he'd begun letting the boy sleep in and started making him a bento lunch just to make sure Hikaru actually ate at school.

It was difficult to keep a vigilant eye on Hikaru. He backslid as often as he improved these days, and Sai alone wasn't enough to keep both Hikaru and Rizumu under watch. Ogata did what he could, helped out without being asked and tried to stop destructive behaviors before they could really get started - and fortunately for all those present, he was doing a decent job at it.

"They seem like wonderful boys, Sai-san," Akiko said demurely as she led the men into the living room.

Sai chuckled lightly, "They're actually quite the handful."

Ogata took a seat in one of the open armchairs, next to Sai and across from Touya Kouyou seated on the couch. For awhile, Sai and Kouyou did actually engage in a short discussion over their last game, but without actually having been present for it, it went for the most part over Ogata's head. They didn't persist in the discussion for long, seeing as there was no record of the match nor was there any way for them to recreate it from memory - a skill that Sai (and, to Ogata's growing shock, even Hikaru) had terrifyingly developed.

Akiko left them to make the promised tea, returning shortly with a tea tray and four steaming mugs after the former and current Meijin's conversation grew less intense and more casual. She took a seat next to her husband after doling out the tea to all present. It became clear to Ogata in that moment - they weren't here for either a kids' playdate or a short game conversation. They were here because of _Touya Akiko_.

The Touya family was immaculate. They were courteous, polite, charismatic, and gifted in many respects: the Touya males boasted intellectual composure and natural talent in their profession. Touya Akiko was often overlooked by the Go world for her lack of involvement in their community and thus remained a mostly unknown figure to the majority in general.

Touya Kouyou's students were not so ignorant. Akiko had been a highly-regarded figure in her previous profession before she'd retired early to dedicate more time to her son; still, that careful eye and hand she held in management had earned their household more than a little side income. Those that found themselves often visiting the Touya household learned one thing very quickly: Touya Akiko was the family's lifeblood and none dared intrude unless they had somehow earned her explicit permission. She wasn't just the wife of Touya Kouyou and the mother of the prodigious Akira; she was a woman that had excelled well within her own right and controlled, in some small respect, however subtle and unseen, the events that unfolded around her family.

Fujiwara Sai was a family friend, Kouyou's rival, Akira's idol - he had more than enough influence on the Touya family. It was no wonder Akiko had become curious with Sai's adoption of Hikaru; she'd been utterly blindsided by the development. The problem was, Sai couldn't explain the circumstances of how Hikaru had come under his care. Between the prostitution and the paperwork, even Ogata didn't think there was a single shred of legality in the whole affair.

"I have to admit, Sai-san, adoption was one of the last things I was expecting from you," Akiko started benignly, tone deceptively light.

Ogata had to thwart her before things escalated. "Akiko-san-"

The ninth-dan stopped when Sai laid a hand on his arm, giving it a brief squeeze of assurance before pulling back into his relaxed posture. Nothing about Sai denoted he was anxious at the route the conversation seemed to be taking, but Ogata knew the other man well enough to see that he was hardly his usual self. This was Sai when business began, when someone tried to nose their way into his private life and affect his new charge - he was ice without the sharpness, more muted than when he faced off against people like Kawai.

"It's just the way things worked out," Sai replied diffidently. He didn't elaborate, taking a sip of tea under Akiko's even gaze. It was a silent but obvious refusal to offer any explanation, his own way of implying to the woman that this was an unwelcome probe for information.

There was a tense moment of silence as all present parties sipped their tea. Ogata glanced over at his teacher, but for his part, Kouyou seemed content to let his wife run her interrogation without interference from him. Ogata was only quiet because of Sai's silent request, waiting for an opportune time to switch conversation topics, while Akiko and Sai matched uncompromising stare for uncompromising stare.

There was a loud clatter from the game room down the hall, startling all four adults. Hikaru's loud  _"Piece of shit!"_  had Sai jumping up and running, Ogata on his heels just as the Touya parents rose to join them.

Ogata was inwardly panicking. Hikaru could hide it well, but he still had triggers and his reactions to having those triggers pulled could get severe. Ogata had finally weaned the story about the furniture store out of Sai - if something like that could get Hikaru to destroy whatever was around him, then there was no telling where the limits were with the boy. Akira may be cordial and polite with strangers, but there was an element of abrasiveness to him that he had yet to soften.

If he set Hikaru off… Well, there was no telling what Sai would do - or Akiko.

The door to the game room was open and Sai had already taken one step in before he stopped cold, violet eyes wide and disbelieving. Ogata nearly knocked into him but didn't manage to snap something out, his own eyes widening at what was before them.

Three pairs of eyes were looking up at them in confusion. "What happened?" Hikaru asked, but really, he had no right - he still had one arm up and posed to throw the wooden block in his hand in Akira's direction. Akira was in a similar position, only he had two blocks gripped in his hand but hurriedly let them go with a flash of guilt crossing his face. Rizumu was stacking the blocks back up into their previous tower position, seated between the two boys and having already lost interest in their newly-arrived adult audience.

" _Bi-ru-do_ ," Rizumu sounded out carefully, prying the last block from Hikaru's lax grip.

Hikaru turned back around. "This is a stupid game," he bit out.

"You're only saying that because you've lost the last five times," Akira responded waspishly.

"You haven't won yet either, pretty boy!"

" _Prett-_  Have you  _looked_ in a mirror?"

Hikaru grabbed another block to pelt in Akira's direction. The half-built jenga tower crumpled back into dissolution under Rizumu's bored eyes, but he only waited patiently as Akira picked up a few pieces himself to throw back at the blond-banged boy before quietly resuming rebuilding the tower once again.

Sai almost couldn't believe it. The entire world could shift on its axis, the universe could fall apart - and yet Akira and Hikaru would still be reduced to childish spats within ten minutes of spending time together. It didn't even have to be just Go anymore; it seemed in the reality, they could disagree about the color of the sky.

Sai rose a hand to cover the lower half of his face, but it was pointless - there was no hiding his laughter.

* * *

**A/N** : Of course they're playing jenga. What else would they be playing? (innocent look)

_Note 1)_   **Hikaru's Strength in Go** : He's currently seen as the strongest insei. In reference to canon strength during the insei arc, he's stronger than Isumi. He's around his beginner-dan level already.

_Note 2)_   **NetGo** : It's an exciting place.

_Note 3)_   **On Rizumu/Mitani** : Due to how he was essentially raised by businesses like the Gate, he's latched on to Hikaru and fostered an extreme case of dependency on him.

_Note 4)_   **Hikaru in Shirakawa's Office** : Hikaru is severely traumatized. There are repercussions of that trauma - being alone in a small room with a man is Hikaru's trigger.

-Triggers aren't always going to big things. I've found they can also latch onto the weird, small details people would think wouldn't have mattered: a certain type of chair, a certain brand of lotion,  _etc_. Don't be surprised if Hikaru is perfectly fine with someone flinging around sexual innuendos but panics when a man he doesn't know asks what kind of books he likes to read.

-Sai's apartment is actually quite large and Hikaru had ample time to get used to Ogata with Sai's mediation, but he never had that with Shirakawa. It all comes down to what Hikaru deems a "threat," which due to his client history, is men over a certain age.

On a lighter note, some of you will be happy to hear that my overall idea regarding Hikaru's fashion is ' _as long as it looks good on me and I think I'm pretty, I'm going to wear it_ '.


	15. Down to the Grain Line

**A/N** : I'm alive.

 _Guest3017_ , -heart eyes-

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own _Hikaru no Go_.

 **Warnings** : Ditto.

 **Pairings** : Ditto.

* * *

**Chapter 14**

_Down to the Grain Line_

* * *

After a moment where the only sound in the room was Sai attempting and failing to reign in his laughter, Ogata took the initiative to bodily move the giggling Meijin out of the way so he could trap the three boys under his critical eyes.

" _Hikaru_ ," he began ominously, his tone sharp. Hikaru dropped the jenga piece guiltily, making no move to defend himself over his childish actions.

Akira took this as his cue to intervene. "We apologize for the noise," he was quick to say.

This was only undermined by Rizumu, who didn't look very contrite. "I didn't do anything wrong," the placid boy noted aloud, eyes riveted to the tabletop. "Except win," he amended with a small smirk, the most emotion Akira had seen on his face since he'd arrived. The young Go professional gave the russet-haired boy a pretty hard glare in response, wondering if throwing another jenga piece was truly out of line. Hikaru remained completely motionless, skin flushed and with eyes focused on Ogata's feet.

Akira glanced back over at the four adults still partly crowded into the room. He felt a little guilty about causing such a ruckus - really, it was all Hikaru's fault, how was Akira expected to keep his calm when the blond-banged boy kept insinuating things related to his fashion sense? Still, it was a bit odd for his parents to look so concerned; his father seemed to not know what to do with himself.

It was expected, if a bit sad. Akira had never really pulled any stunts that required him to be lengthily chided. He'd always maintained a rather stoic, polite demeanor - he was never one for childish spats or the like. Hikaru had a way of pushing all his buttons, though, and in the heat of the moment Akira could only answer in kind. It was almost as if any restraint Akira put on himself was loosened if not altogether gone when he interacted with the blond-banged boy, oddly liberating but rather exasperating in the aftermath.

Akira's mother's eyes were on the scattered jenga pieces. Akira felt himself blush to his roots, jerkily moving forward to start to clean them up. The sooner the mess disappeared from sight, the better composed Akira would feel so that he could deal with any problems his parents may have with his less-than-mature response to a jenga game. Rizumu slowly began to help him, a silent and airy sort of support at Akira's side. Hikaru's wide green eyes remained trained on Ogata with an almost worrisome amount of fear. It bothered Akira, though he didn't voice his discontent and couldn't explain, even to himself, the reason for his displeasure.

Ogata took stock of Hikaru's look with a small sigh. "Just don't get too rowdy, brats," he waved off, seeming to forcibly calm himself. It was a quiet sort of surrender that Akira hadn't been expecting, but Akira had noted awhile ago that Ogata always acted a bit strange around Fujiwara Meijin.

"It was an intense game," Akira stated, sounding almost defensive. It was said rather sulkily too, which made his mother stare at him with disbelieving eyes.

Rizumu pushed a hand into Hikaru's face, knocking the other boy over casually. The subsequent flailing and cry of outrage went ignored by the russet-haired boy as he leaned over the table, sweeping the jenga blocks off and into a surprised Akira's lap.

"Now we can play that colorful game," Rizumu suggested.

"Colorf- Are you talking about _Jinsei Game_?" Akira asked.

Hikaru propped himself back up with a glower. "You can't even read!" he countered hotly.

"I don't need to read it to enjoy it," Rizumu waved off.

"I can read it aloud," Akira offered, ever the impeccable host.

Rizumu's illiteracy had cropped up before - it's what had prompted the three into playing jenga in the first place - so Akira's tactful lack of reaction was only shrewdly observed by their adult counterparts. For their part, the Touya parents were quiet but still looked vaguely shocked by the revelation. Sai's inexplicable giggling fit had finally subsided, however; the long-haired man was smiling encouragingly at the boys and seemingly enjoying the otherwise chaotic interaction.

"Akira-kun is acting admirably as the host, so don't give him a hard time, Hikaru, Rizumu-kun," he chided without any real bite. Hikaru perked up a bit at not being lectured by his actual guardian, buoyed by the response, even if Rizumu's placid expression never wavered.

As the three boy devovled into a squabble over their next decided board game, the adults decided to leave them to their own devices. Akiko lead them back down the hall, Ogata keeping the game room door cracked just a bit open so that the kids' voices could be heard but not be strikingly distinct.

_"Why do YOU get to be the blue car?"_

_"Why don't you just take pink? You certainly wear it enough!"_

_"I HAPPEN TO LOOK AWESOME IN PINK, JERK!"_

Ogata could feel a headache coming on. _Don't go back, don't go back, just let them settle it between themselves,_ he chanted to himself internally. Only Hikaru could get Touya Akira into an argument over board game pieces.

"My, they certainly are lively," Akiko stated conversationally.

Unless Ogata's ears were deceiving him, she actually sounded amused. They returned to the living room in a more subdued manner, resuming their seats.

"You're quite doting, Sai-san," she started once again. Kouyo had gone to fetch a new batch of hot tea, leaving the two men alone with his wife.

Sai just looked pleasantly curious. "Am I? I suppose I just want to spoil Hikaru a bit, is all," he confirmed airily.

Akiko was silent for several long moments. Ogata wondered what she was thinking about all of this: Sai's strange reactions, the reveal of Rizumu's illiteracy - literacy rates were so high in Japan that finding a child his age with no reading ability was absurdly rare - and the quiet but stubborn refusal to divulge anything to her about why Sai had picked up such strange children in the first place.

"They seem like wonderful children," she finally agreed with a small smile. "And I'm glad they get along so well with Akira. I can't wait to get to know them better."

Sai's stance relaxed.

Ogata recalled, quite suddenly, Touya Akiko's previous occupation - she'd been a children's psychiatrist.

* * *

The world is wet and the air feels sticky. The moisture clings to everything: the streets are damp, the walls of buildings soaked and clogged with washed-out debris. It fills the nook and crannies in an attempt to gouge out the unclean but the muck stays, insistent, both charred remains and unintelligible documents crumpled into wet dissolution. There's a satisfaction that the words are lost, never to be returned to their correct shades - but the feeling is fleeting and drowns in the water.

Chikara can't remember if it had rained. It feels like it did, his body tired and his eyes sore - no wait, that isn't rain. That's tears. Had he forgotten? He had cried. He hasn't cried in so long that it's almost shocking he still knows how, but for the life of him, he can't properly remember the reason. The water is soaked into every fiber he wears, an odd feeling when coupled with the burning sensation in his throat.

It comes back to him as he uncurls from his crouched position, watery eyes focusing blearily on what lies ahead of him. The water was everywhere, as was the ash - it starts as inky black charcoal that dulls to muddy brown in the small rivers left in the wake. There's a certain meaningless frivolity to it, the steps almost too extreme to be taken seriously - yet here it was, a pile of charred rubble that once housed a nightmare.

The Gate is gone, taken by a fire that will be ruled as arson and no perpetrator ever found.

Chikara crouches at the edge of the zone of impact, partially hidden by a vending machine so that the lingering firemen don't catch sight of him. The smell of ash remains harsh in his throat and tears spring from his eyes in response, but he's draining a bottle of water to soothe the ache.

 _"Uuh,"_ Chikara moans pitifully into the humid summer night. "I'm so lonely..."

* * *

With a vague sense of confusion, Hikaru remained stonily silent in the passenger seat of Ogata's car as he watched the scenery go by from his window. The extensive and exhausting discussion he'd been subjected to only last night that had landed him in Ogata's vehicle in the first place was a cringeworthy memory he was just starting to get over, not at all helped by the three people currently occupying the ninth-dan's backseat.

"Are you excited? _I'm_ excited," Kaneko practically crooned. Hikaru could see her smirk from the rearview mirror.

Tsutsui shot the girl a warning look. "Just relax, Hikaru-kun - it's just a fun tournament. I'm sure you'll learn a lot, and no one expects an insei to beat Go pros until they actually are one themselves," the older boy advised gently. Honestly, if it weren't for the fact that Tsutsui was treating Hikaru like fragile glass at this point, the blond-banged boy would have happily believed him.

"Akira did," Rizumu pointed out drolly.

"Touya Akira doesn't count," Tsutsui and Ogata countered immediately and vehemently.

Kaneko cocked her head to the side. "Who is that?" she asked the car at large. "A Go celebrity?"

"A shitty fashion idol," Hikaru explained. The words tumbled from his mouth almost mechanically, lacking any real jest or ire. His nerves were already standing on end and he was starting to feel nauseous, although the conversation helped soothe him just a bit - he didn't quite feel like opening the door and throwing himself into traffic anymore.

It hadn't been quite like this when he'd first heard of of the Young Lions Tournament, but when he'd been swallowing tiny bites of his meal at the dinner table last night, Ogata had brought up the issue of Sai and Hikaru being seen travelling together.

The Meijin. Hikaru almost forgot at times, caught up in his own progress or other matters, only occasionally reminded at the insei school whenever Waya or Nase got particularly spirited about the top tier of Go players. This was the first time the issue had ever been personally addressed by Hikaru's little- unit. (Family? Hikaru didn't know, wasn't quite ready to label it as such in any case.) Sai and Ogata had shared one long, knowing look in a silent conversation as Hikaru stared hollowly into his half-eaten dinner.

It had been decided, after several small arguments from both men, that the best course of action was for Ogata to take Hikaru to the venue himself. They had toyed with the idea of Hikaru getting there alone - he was very capable of handling himself, after all - but Sai didn't want to leave the boy thinking he was all alone as he went to his first tournament. This adamant opinion had been reiterated in the 30-minute argument they had over taking public transport versus Ogata's car, which Rizumu had been quietly privy to and understood in his own way.

Which was why, after Hikaru finally relented and agreed to taking Ogata's car, the russet-haired boy brought up bringing along Hikaru's other school friends. This resulted in another 20-minute argument, mostly Ogata bemoaning having so many "noisy brats" in his car, although he'd given in under Sai's darkening look. In the end, Sai being unable to attend the tournament in any personal capacity meant he'd fill the void with any number of people Hikaru had positive relations with. It was a kind and thoughtful idea, characteristic of the Meijin - but that still left Hikaru without his usual crutch for support.

Sai wasn't there with him. It hurt quite a bit, no matter how much Hikaru objectively understood. He knew he'd fare even worse if news got out that the Meijin was his guardian, knew this was just Sai's way of protecting Hikaru from harmful expectations - but it still hurt.

"By the way, Rizumu-kun, is there a reason you are dressed like a junkie scrounging for meds?" Kaneko asked pleasantly.

Rizumu's reply was cut and dry, "Junkies don't dress like this."

Ogata scowled. "Why didn't we leave those two and bring that Glasses Diva instead?" he asked darkly.

Hikaru blinked out of his nausea-inducing worries at the older man's query. "Glasses Diva...? You mean Kishimoto?"

Tsutsui leaned forward, pointedly ignoring Kaneko's and Rizumu's squabble to his left. "Kishimoto-kun goes to school with Touya Akira. We didn't want to put any stress on their relationship if we bring him to support Hikaru instead," he explained.

 _I think Akira is firmly in that pro-Hikaru group,_ _though,_ Ogata thought, then immediately tried to un-think it to spare himself the horror.

"Kishimoto is that guy who made those chocolate macaroons right?" Kaneko asked. "He's pretty cool-looking. I bet he does well in his classes."

"If you're looking for a boyfriend, you're setting your hopes a little too high," Rizumu said nastily. Kaneko quickly elbowed him in the side, smiling victoriously at his pained grunt.

Ogata's eyebrows were raised. "What do his looks have to do with his grades?" he asked.

"Ogata-sensei," Kaneko began, in the same tone Hikaru had often heard used by Shirakawa when he was about to "gently advise" an erring insei to tears. "Every strand on that pretty little head of his says that he's a man that will settle for nothing less than perfect. I didn't see a single wrinkle in his uniform, a stray paper in his backpack, or even a smudge on his glasses. Even the macaroons he made by hand were perfectly shaped."

All the men in the car were lurched into a befuddled silence except for Rizumu, who silently agreed with her.

"I- Kaneko-chan, I didn't know you, er, felt that strongly about Kishimoto-san," Tsutsui observed with a strangled voice.

Kaneko gave her upperclassman a look that could only be described as condescending. "I know Kaio. I'm definitely going to get him as my tutor. I will get into whatever high school I want with that guy helping me study."

Tsutsui's strangled expression only grew stronger. Ogata started laughing, which was Hikaru's cue to turn back to the window and fantasize about throwing himself out onto the mercy of the road - now for a completely different reason.

Pulling up at the Go Institute, Hikaru was filled with an abrupt surge of relief that quickly died when he remembered why he was there in the first place. Climbing out of the car along with the other wayward passengers, Ogata looked him over with a dour look.

"You look like you're about to sick up," the ninth-dan commented without remorse.

Tsutsui, standing a few steps behind the man, shot him a dangerous look. He turned to his underclassman, resolutely pasting an encouraging smile on his face. "Hikaru-kun, you'll be fine - whether you win or lose, you will learn. Isn't that the most important thing?"

"Yes, yes," Kankeko agreed sagely. "And afterwards we can all hold hands and talk about our feelings."

That prompted a scowl from the blond-banged boy. "You are the _worst_ ," he stressed to the girl.

Ogata sighed, giving Hikaru an awkward but sincere pat of encouragement on the head. "We'll catch you after the tournament. I doubt you want to walk in there with this little entourage."

"I am a _gift,"_ Kaneko deadpanned.

Ogata looked seconds away from lighting up another cigarette, Hikaru could practically see the nicotine-addiction screaming in his eyes. Instead the bespectacled man motioned for Hikaru to leave first - the boy needed to check in as present anyway - and they would follow in a minute or two. Hikaru almost didn't notice Rizumu attempting to shadow his steps, but Ogata put a stop to that by grabbing the frail boy's collar and pulling him back.

"I just said we would see him later," the man growled. "With you lot, it's like herding cats."

"Call me 'kitten' and I scream, Glasses-perv," Rizumu shot back coldly.

"Per-"

Hikaru did not turn around, focusing glassily on his steps as he continued to move forward. (There was no stopping the unmitigated disaster of Rizumu and Ogata bickering, anyway.) Instead he found himself walking into the familiar hall of the Go Institute, met instantly by the sorely-comforting sight of the other Class A insei clustered off to the side as Shirakawa hovered between them and the ladies at the front desk.

Waya caught sight of him first, greeting him with a wide smile. "Surprised you're not late," the older insei teased lightly.

Nase moved closer to peer into Hikaru's face. "You're looking a bit green - are you nervous?" she asked in concern. This, in a way, explained why she had an ironclad grip on Fukui's arm. The younger boy looked absolutely miserable - an even messier bundle of nerves than Hikaru. The sight guiltily made Hikaru feel a bit better about himself.

"If I say I'm fine, does that mean I don't have to hold your hand?" Hikaru asked warily. It showed that Fukui must have really been out of it as the boy didn't even look up.

Nase's smile was all teeth. "Big talk from a guy who's never been in a tournament before," the girl noted aloud, bloodthirst hanging on her every word.

Hikaru abruptly felt his nauseous anxiety return with a vengeance. Isumi had shot a look up at the ceiling as if praying for patience, resolutely separating them before Nase inadvertently pushed Hikaru into a full-blown panic attack. Waya helped very little by patting Hikaru mock-consolingly on the back.

"Oh? Are we kicking people while they're down again?" Honda asked lightly. It was an honest surprise he wasn't late - the other insei had grown used to him showing up with a scant minute to spare, if only for the faintly apoplectic reaction he'd get from the insei instructor. It seemed Honda had taken the high road this time and actually arrived early.

Nase smiled at him prettily. "Always," she replied winningly.

Hikaru mumbled something - hopefully it sounded more like "bathroom" and less like "arghmphl" - and wandered away after making sure Shirakawa had checked him in as present. The insei instructor looked positively venomous, a perfect politician's smile firmly etched on his lips as another man cheerfully talked at him, apparently not noticing the poisonous barbs laced throughout Shirakawa's replies.

With Hikaru gone and Isumi trying to simultaneously boost up Fukui's confidence and leash Nase, Waya found his attention wandering away from the other insei and to the meandering crowd of young pros that greeted a newcomer of their own every now and again. Most everyone had shown up already, save a few of the pro players, and even now the organizers of the event were roping in Shirakawa for a few short words.

This gave Waya the perfect vantage point to see Touya Akira strut in, all composure and confidence that made Waya's throat burn with bitter envy. The young pro had decimated both him and Isumi in the last Pro Exams and the defeat, while rightly served, was still one that hurt more than any other. Waya knew the grudge was petty at best and only grew because Morishita cited the Touya clan so often that Waya had become spiteful. Waya was rational but he wasn't a saint.

"Waya, your man-crush is here," Nase remarked cheerfully.

"He is not- what is that even supposed to mean?" Waya bit back, affronted.

Nase flashed him her prettiest smile. If he didn't know her so well, it may have worked- as it was, it just made him contemplate the pros and cons of murdering a fellow insei.

"I thought Waya's man-crush was Fujiwara Meijin?" Honda asked, looking curious. Next to him, Fukui had reached the apex of his panicking and appeared to go straight into a static frame of mind, his eyes rather glassy-looking as he stared at nothing in particular.

Nase shrugged. "I think Hikaru-kun has him beat there," she explained candidly. She was watching as Isumi attempted to prompt Fukui back into a coherent state of mind by murmuring soothing encouragements and poking him in the side.

"At least he has good taste in Go pros," Waya muttered. Said boy had finally returned from his bathroom trip, still looking rather pale but otherwise more composed than when he had first come in. He was making a beeline back to them but was stopped by, surprisingly enough, Touya Akira himself.

"Ouch- What the hell! Do you always just _grab_ people like that?" Hikaru complained, scowling at Touya's rather aggressive manhandling.

Touya was clearly not in the mood to listen to his justified complaints. "You're finally here," he said, unsmiling but eyes very, very focused. (Somewhere to the side, Shirakawa proceeded to look vaguely uncomfortable.) The young pro remained ignorant of the reaction his rather out-of-character aggression was garnering.

"I've _been_ here," Hikaru rebutted. "You're the one that's late, Akira-kun."

Shirakawa intervened at that point, pulling Hikaru out of Touya's grip with an exasperated look. "At least call him by the proper title, Fujiwara-kun."

Hikaru looked at Touya (who was now glaring at the insei instructor), to said insei instructor, then back to Touya. " _Touya-sensei_ ," he tested out, emphasis heavy.

Shirakawa cringed. "Not like that!" he reprimanded waspishly.

Hikaru didn't know whether to be amused or offended at the reaction. "Why? _Touya-sensei_ is _Touya-sensei!"_

Akira didn't even look perturbed. "It's fine, isn't it?" he waved off.

 _It isn't! It really isn't!_ Shirakawa thought in horror.

Taking the insei instructor's horrified silence as acquiescence, Hikaru turned his attention back to the other boy. "Hey, do I still have to call you 'sensei' when I'm at your place?" he asked, honestly curious. It was such a strange concept to Hikaru that someone his own age could be called with such respect - in many ways, it seemed more like roleplay than a legitimate title. Applying the moniker to Touya Akira wasn't embarrassing so much as it was awkward, but Hikaru hoped that was more because he found the other boy endearing rather than that he was jealous. Jealousy was an ugly feeling to have and Sai would not be impressed by such petty reasoning.

Akira shook his head, completely missing the wide-eyed looks of their unwanted audience. "The formality seems unnecessary at that point. Although it is an improvement in your manners," he added off-handedly.

Hikaru glowered at him. "Cool," he remarked. "Guess I'll still keep affectionately referring to you as 'asshole' then."

Akira now looked to be openly contemplating assault. Shirakawa had given up on them at some point and wandered back over to the tournament organizers, apparently eager to get started and otherwise have everyone's attention be occupied by the tournament they were actually present to participate in rather than the quickly-devolving contest between the two boys.

"Everyone, the match assignments have been posted!" one of the organizers called out from the front. "Please check where your game will be and go to your assigned seat!"

Hikaru's heart leapt into his throat. He tried to remember what Sai had been telling him nearly every day - this tournament was a chance to learn and improve. Failing was a part of learning, he could only hope to grow from this experience.

But winning would show Sai that Hikaru learned so much from his teachings-

But people can learn a lot from those near their level-

But wasn't he just making excuses for himself in case he did lose?

But was he really so arrogant as to believe that he could compete with actual pros?

 _Breathe,_ Hikaru reminded himself. He had almost forgotten how.

Akira was looking at him, head turned just slightly so the unrelenting quality of his gaze was visible to the blond-banged boy. The young pro tried to remember what it was like, to play his first official game, to feel the flutter of butterflies in his stomach as he walked into the pro world. But it wouldn't be exactly the same, because Akira had grown up in that world - he'd learned to hold the stones at the same time he'd learned to speak, he'd watched his father blaze trails before he had even entered primary school. There was a world of difference between him and Fujiwara Sai's student, and it was no more clearer than now: here in a tournament that would not directly affect Hikaru's track into professional Go, the boy was terrified. Akira, in that same positions a year ago, had barely mustered up the energy to wonder what would happen afterwards.

"Win or lose, you will grow stronger," Akira whispered to him. He prayed he sounded encouraging but the only person that came to mind in situations like these was Kishimoto, who didn't have a single nurturing bone in his body. "Do not be afraid to fall. You have the strength to get back up again - don't doubt yourself."

Hikaru wouldn't meet his eyes. _Only people who don't know the meaning of rock-bottom can say things like that._

* * *

"So this is your job? Looks boring."

Rizumu was not the king of casual conversation. He barely held conversations at all, really, aside from a few exchanges with others in the Gate. His 'clients' had never necessitated the need for speech outside of a few aborted attempts at rejecting them, if only because they both knew Rizumu's consent was never part of the deal.

Ogata muttered something under his breath, the faint smell of tobacco lingering in his steps as he walked a step ahead of them. The man was honestly confusing to the boy - he was derisive and harsh in almost all situations but never said or did anything to cause undue harm. Fujiwara Sai walked on eggshells around him; Ogata Seiji complained about his manners while patiently and stubbornly correcting them.

"It's gonna be Hikaru-kun's job too," Kaneko pointed out smartly. "I wouldn't insult your future husband's choice of occupation if I were you."

"Kaneko-chan, that's inappropriate," Tsutsui chided.

Kaneko thought about that for a moment. "...Senpai, are you telling me you want them to remain unmarried? How scandalous."

"Wh-What? No, I-"

"Alright, enough. We're almost there," Ogata interrupted. This was a blessing, especially considering that whatever Tsutsui would have responded with was more likely to encourage Kaneko than deter her. As it was, Rizumu was now just thinking about what being married to Hikaru would be like. When Hikaru wasn't being annoying, it might actually be pleasant. If only because Hikaru was still the only person he could tolerate for any length of time, no matter how entertaining Kaneko was turning out to be.

"Hikaru-kun's pretty good, right?" Kaneko started, turning her attention back to the older man. "What are the chances he'll win this tournament?"

Ogata looked thoughtful as they continued down the halls, intent on leading his little troupe into an observation room. (It wouldn't do to have the loud brats clutter the actual game rooms.) Hikaru was good for an insei, his quick climb in their ranks a testament to the fact - but against actual pros? Those who he had no personal connection to and would face for the first time? To Ogata, it was more a way to test Hikaru's mindset rather than his skills - there was nothing more destructive to a person than doubt in themselves, after all.

If only Sai could be here…

"These are still professional players," Ogata decided. "Winning or losing here doesn't matter. He just needs to learn from them."

"Liar," Rizumu scoffed. "It's a game tournament, isn't it? Winning is everything."

"The Young Lions Tournament isn't like that, Rizumu-kun," Tsutsui interjected. "No one expects an insei to win. "

"I bet Akira will win," Rizumu retorted. "And neither of you will be surprised when he does too."

Ogata couldn't argue with that point. He'd already expected such an outcome - the real crux of this tournament for Ogata was if Hikaru would be lucky enough to get Akira as his first opponent or be strong enough to make it far enough where he would get to face the other boy.

"Touya Akira is different," Tsutsui countered.

Kaneko sighed, "You guys keep saying that, too. I don't know who I feel more sorry for now - Hikaru-kun or this Touya guy."

* * *

Hikaru wondered how it was possible to let down so many people at once.

Tsutsui would forgive him, because the older boy was just too kind for his own good and secretly a teacher at heart - his expectations were never set and he seemed to accept anything that came at him. Kishimoto would forgive him because the older boy wasn't the type to expect much out of anyone. Ogata wouldn't so much forgive him as he would lecture him about his each and every mistake, but wasn't that all just a lesson to learn from? Hikaru could deal with that.

Akira would be disappointed. Hikaru had known the other boy was eager to play a game with him, and Hikaru had honestly been looking forward to it too - there was a different air to an official game, after all. But Akira had tried to be encouraging earlier, and in the end, they had years to grow and develop, for Hikaru to catch up to the other boy. There was something special in chasing after him because Hikaru had never really sought anything for a purely selfish reason, had never wanted to improve himself for purely selfish reasons - it was exhilarating and Akira, despite his intensity, was more than willing to help rather than hinder.

Sai would be- Hikaru didn't know. The Meijin had stressed, over and over, that he expected nothing from Hikaru but to grow, to become better. But surely some part of the man hoped the boy would make it at least to the final round. Hadn't they been playing together practically ten months? Hikaru should be better than this.

But he wasn't, because he was losing.

His shapes were getting cut. His strategies weren't panning out. Adachi 3-dan was strong, and more than that, he was composed - he'd been polite in their greeting and cordial in their game. His moves weren't as overwhelming as Sai's had always been, not as well-planned as Ogata's nor as beautiful as Akira's - but they were solid and strong, and in the end, he was plainly more skilled than Hikaru himself.

Losing was acceptable. He could learn from this game. Even if Adachi didn't want to discuss it after, Hikaru could recreate it for Sai. He could go over it at the insei institute, could listen to Ogata and Shirakawa prattle on about his unnecessarily hasty attacks in the beginning, his poorly-executed strategy that earned him only a few points from the corner.

Even now, barely into mid-game, Hikaru could still play into yose. He may not win but he could still fight, give Adachi-sensei at least a small reason to remember him. No one could expect an insei to match up to a professional, after all - weren't the differences in their levels too high? It was acceptable for Hikaru to lose here.

 _Learn and adapt_ , Hikaru reminded himself. His heart was heavy in his throat but his eyes remained clear and dry, his focus too intense to be swayed away from the board.

"Should we stop here?" Adachi asks. He spoke kindly, more reminiscent of Isumi than anyone, which is perhaps the only reason Hikaru can tear his eyes away from the board to stare at him.

 _Am I that bad?_ Hikaru wondered. Even if he doesn't win this game, he can still play longer; there is still a fight in the corner that remained unresolved, and he hadn't fully plotted out that last strategy to gain him the advantage at one of the star points.

Adachi was smiling now. "A break for lunch, I mean? Half the room has emptied out already."

Hikaru blinked, surprised. He turns his gaze elsewhere, and sure enough - many of their fellow competitors are gone and others are rising to follow. Only a few remain seated at their boards - Akira and his opponent both still playing, the latter looking far more stressed; Isumi was hovering around the edge of Waya's game, although it looked as if the other boy is ready to halt soon for lunch; both Nase and Fukui were already gone, and Honda is walking out the door with a lollipop in his mouth.

"Ah, okay," Hikaru agreed, feelingly slightly winded. He wonders if it's normal to feel blindsided by a break.

Adachi rose, giving him a courteous nod before taking his leave. Hikaru stands on weak legs, undecided. Some part of him wanted to see what Akira's game is like but the idea of seeing that kind of undoubtedly beautiful gameplay is stressful, and at the very least, Iijima wouldn't appreciate him rooting for the 'other team'. He doesn't want to talk to Waya, Isumi, or the other insei right now - he doesn't want to know if he will be the only insei to fail this round. Instead he walks out the door, pretending not to notice Akira and Iijima finally taking their break.

He's greeted by Rizumu in the lobby. The boy doesn't really stick out anymore - he's pale and thin and small, but a lot of the younger pros and insei milling about mask his appearance. Hikaru is surprised to find the boy alone - Ogata could never be described as neglectful, after all, and Tsutsui had an almost scary dedication to keeping his youngers in line.

"The old man said it wouldn't be good for you to be seen with a pro right now," Rizumu explained as soon as Hikaru reached him. "Tsutsui and that bitch went to buy some sandwiches or something. He said you can't continue playing on an empty stomach."

"I'm not that hungry," Hikaru replied quietly.

"He's gonna force it down your throat anyway," Rizumu said. His eyes were wandering away from Hikaru's face now, surveying the room the same way that prey do in a new environment. Hikaru himself had already catalogued the exits the first time he'd stepped inside.

Rizumu's eyes returned to him and he leaned closer. He's not as clingy as he usually is, which is surprising - the other boy didn't really care about decorum. He wonders what's stopping Rizumu from hanging off of him like usual.

"You're losing, aren't you? In your little board game," Rizumu stated quietly.

Hikaru bit back a glare. It would only serve as fuel to the russet-haired boy. "I'm surprised you even knew that."

"The old man took us to a room to watch you play," Rizumu shrugged. "He was pretty good at explaining where you fucked up."

There was a live discussion going on about it? Hikaru was mortified. Rizumu grabbed his wrist, pulling him out of the lobby and into one of the many hallways. They appeared to be headed in the direction of the bathroom, which he was quietly grateful for - not only did this keep him out of view from Akira and his insei friends, but it allowed a small modicum of privacy just in case Hikaru gave in to the urge to throw up.

"Your opponent is a pro, right? Tsutsui said something like a rank 3 or whatever," Rizumu recounted boredly as Hikaru trailed him into the empty bathroom. "Is that why you're losing?"

"He has more experience," Hikaru defended himself weakly. "At least I can learn from him."

Rizumu hummed noncommittally. His unrelenting stare was starting to grate, however; the boy had a way of looking at Hikaru that held no judgment but seemed to see everything. It was invasive but that was just another facet of life with Rizumu - he seemed to get into everything that made up Hikaru, whether the blond-banged boy wanted him to or not.

"...are you sure you can afford to lose?"

Hikaru froze.

Rizumu was peering into his face, his own expressionless. When did he become so hard to read? "Will he want you anymore if you lose here? You can't even win in the board game he's been teaching you for months. Don't you think he'll wonder if you're even worth the effort?"

"He isn't like that," Hikaru said. His voice was weak. "He said he doesn't care about-"

"-About winning or losing? Wasn't he just saying that because it's expected of him? I doubt he means it," Rizumu countered. His voice was strangely even, in contrast to his aggressive words. It made it all the worse - if he had sounded ill-tempered, Hikaru could shrug it off. But in this tone, it all seemed like such a reasonable conclusion.

"It's a game, isn't it? Winning is all that matters," Rizumu said. "When did you become so naive?"

_("Don't be naive, Itsuka. It doesn't suit you.")_

Something hot and wet slid down his cheek, and it took a moment for Hikaru to realize he was crying. He tried to rub it away, cheeks flushing, but more only came to burn at the corners and his nose was starting to get the stuffy feeling that accompanied full-out sobs.

"Crying won't help," Rizumu said. It was a common statement in the Gate.

"Just shut up," Hikaru bit out. He was shaking, full-body tremors to match the pace of his heart. Sai was going to leave him. Sai was going to leave him because Hikaru wasn't learning fast enough, wasn't strong enough-

Hikaru was always, _always_ so terribly weak.

The door swung open, Hikaru's tear-stained face meeting Waya's eyes almost instantly. The older boy stopped only a pace in, taken-aback - much like Honda who was a scant step behind him. Hikaru turned away, hastily scrubbing at his eyes. The only way this could get worse was if Ogata came in now to wreak havoc.

Then again, maybe the older man didn't want to be seen talking to someone who couldn't even win the first round?

Hikaru's mind felt painfully numb.

"Hey, w-what's going on?" Waya probed carefully. He was clearly out of his depth, and Hikaru spitefully wondered why the older boy was still in there. Shouldn't he have taken the silent cue to leave? He could be so irritatingly obtuse at times.

"Nothing, it's nothing," Hikaru gritted out. He hated that his voice still sounded on the verge of tears.

Waya, apparently, could only deal with such an awkward situation in one way: misdirected ire. He turned suspicious eyes on the silent Rizumu, who was regarding him boredly. "Who are you?" _And did you do this?_ was the silent but obvious continuation.

"He's just a friend-" Hikaru started, but was cut off by Rizumu himself.

"He's only crying because he knows he's worthless." _God, Rizumu just never beats around the bush, does he?_ Hikaru thought, terror lining his bones with ice. "Losing in the first round like he is. Why would his teacher even bother with him after this?"

It was amazing Rizumu could even complete his sentence, as Waya had strode across the short distance between them to grab the smaller boy by the front of his shirt.

 _"Who the hell said he was worthless?"_ he shouted in the boy's face.

Hikaru stepped forward to intervene, trying to put himself between them. "Waya-"

"He's an insei and he's going head-to-head with pros! Who cares if he loses this match?" Waya stormed on. "They must have put him with the 3-dan because they knew he was the only one of us that could put up a decent fight! How dare you call him worthless? If his teacher abandons him just because of this match, then it's because he's a _shitty teacher!"_

Waya let Rizumu go, flinging him away almost contemptuously. He glared at Hikaru instead, pointing a finger in the other boy's face. "Don't let anyone call you worthless, especially people like him who apparently don't know anything! And if your shitty teacher actually leaves you, then I'll let you know right now, Morishita-sensei is more than happy to take you on!"

Hikaru blinked, shock abruptly stamping out his previous urge to cry. Morishita ninth-dan was interested in having him in his study group?

"Hikaru-kun, for what it's worth," Honda finally spoke, expression tense and voice even. "I really believe your teacher isn't that kind of person. He's... He's definitely not the type to believe winning is everything. Isn't he?"

There was a certainty in his words but what was more shocking was that Honda was clearly saying he believed he knew Hikaru's actual teacher. The rumor among the insei was that it was Ogata ninth-dan, but Hikaru had refuted that - so how could Honda sound so sure of himself? More than that, though- wasn't he right?

Sai was not the type to believe in winning above everything. Sai loved the game in all its aspects: he loved teaching it to Hikaru from his very foundation, he loved discussing his mistakes, his strategies, his successes and his losses in equal measure. Winning was not what was important to Sai - it was _learning_ , it was growing stronger through his experiences.

Sai wanted him to _grow_ , not necessarily to _win_.

"Geez! We leave you alone for a minute, and you're thinking stuff like this?" Waya sighed angrily. "Come on, we're eating lunch! And you're coming with us!" He shot a nasty glare at Rizumu as a nonverbal ' _you're not welcome to come!'_

Waya ignored Hikaru's protests - "W-Wait! Hey! Didn't you have to use the bathroom?" - as he dragged the younger boy out. Rizumu watched them go unperturbed, face still blank despite Waya's rude dismissal and the oddly incessant ringing of his cellphone.

For several long moments, the only sound in the bathroom was the ringtone. Honda was observing the boy quietly, unable to place him but not willing to believe someone who could say such cruel things really was Hikaru's friend.

"How could you let him think something like that?" Honda finally settled on asking. Who the other boy was was not important to him, but he was interested in the reasoning behind his words. If the russet-haired boy did actually know it was Fujiwara Meijin that was teaching Hikaru, then surely he'd know the man's character as well? There was no way Fujiwara-sensei would abandon Hikaru - the boy was gifted, even if he himself had yet to realize it.

Rizumu's gaze was flat, his eyes derisive and honest. He wasn't as hateful as before when Hikaru was present, and it was a bit jarring to see the cold leave that otherwise blank face.

"You're all just so gentle with him, it's weird," he snorted. "Do you really think Hikaru will break that easily?"

Honda eyed the other boy for a long moment, but that went ignored as Rizumu finally answered his cellphone with a careless greeting - _"I was taking a shit, i'll be back in a second, you nag."_ \- and finally made his way out of the bathroom. Honda trailed him out but decided not to follow, instead walking back out into the lobby.

Most of the players in the tournament would likely be getting their meals from the canteen but Honda had already eaten nearly half his weight in candy. (Cavities were imminent and he could already foresee Shirakawa's vicious lecturing in the future.) Waya was already dealing with Hikaru so there was no need for backup there, so instead Honda elected to loiter outside the building for some fresh air.

He changed his mind when he spotted Ogata idling in the smoker's area. The ninth-dan looked irritated as he typed out a message on his phone with one hand, the other holding his cigarette to his mouth. Other than the mildly-pissed off Ogata, the area was empty - although Honda wondered if that was because of the man himself.

 _He's Michio-san's friend,_ Honda thought as he breached the shaded area. _And no one can be worse than Michio-san._

Ogata looked up, a dismissive glance that soon returned to his phone.

Honda steeled himself. "Who is the boy with the russet-brown hair?"

* * *

After Waya's monopolizing of his time during lunch, mostly consisting of the older boy lecturing him about his choice of ramen more than anything else, Hikaru found himself back in the throes of his game with Adachi. The stress was still there - of course it was, because this was still his first official tournament and his opponent was good. But it was different from before; instead of a subdued sort of horror mixing with his expectation, it was invigorating to be seated across from this opponent.

He was in his first official tournament, and he was being taken seriously.

Adachi wasn't as reserved as Isumi, but he definitely wasn't as aggressive as Akira could be in his technique. He lacked creativity: some of Hikaru's more eccentric traps had blindsided him, although he regained enough territory to make such surprises unimportant. He tended to pause longer and longer as their game continued, thinking over each move critically. He neither taunted nor cajoled, and when they played, he made no move outside of placing his stones on the board. Before, Hikaru would have thought the other boy boring, but even now he could see - he may not be exciting, but Adachi was solid in his technique and played with years of experience.

_"Makemashita."_

Hikaru lost by four moku.

They'd cleaned up their game after in relative quiet, aware of the other players present - although at this point in time, only a handful of games were still going on. Surprisingly, Hikaru noticed that none of his fellow insei were among those still playing, but he was quick to follow Adachi to have their results recorded. He'd barely gotten a step out of the room before Adachi suddenly turned on him with a broad grin.

"Fujiwara, you're amazing! You're an insei, right? Are you taking the Pro Exam this year?" the older boy asked, looking far too excited for no reason Hikaru could fathom.

"Y-Yes," Hikaru said, not quite sure which question he was answering.

Adachi was not discouraged. "I'm definitely going to be keeping an eye out for you, then! I can't wait to see you in the pro leagues!"

 _I lost, right? I remember losing,_ Hikaru thought blearily. Adachi was chattering excitedly at him but he couldn't process the words, so Hikaru just remained standing there while staring dumbly.

This unintended two-man comedy act abruptly ended when Akira came striding up. "I was watching your game," Akira started in lieu of a greeting because he's Akira. "Did you want to discuss it?"

Hikaru abruptly remembered that although Sai would forgive him for failing, Akira had also been looking forward to playing him in an official capacity. Luckily for Hikaru, he didn't have time to wallow in his resurrected panic because Adachi stepped forward with a confused look on his face.

"But I wanted to discuss the game with Fujiwara-kun," he interjected.

Akira's imperial look held shades of Kishimoto. "...we can discuss it together," he offered. His tone suggested that Adachi was the unwelcome third party in all this.

Hands dropped down on both of Hikaru's shoulders, anchoring him place as Shirakawa gave a lengthy sigh to signal his arrival. "Just five minutes," he grumbled from above. "Five minutes without a fight is all I ask, and yet you step one foot out of a game room and hell breaks loose."

"Technically it's Akira's fault," Hikaru defended himself. "Oh, sorry - I meant _Touya-sensei."_

He could feel Shirakawa's cringe.

"Anyway, I'm here to collect my last errant pupil," Shirakawa announced for the two younger Go pros. "So I apologize, but you'll have to find some other time to discuss anything with him."

Adachi looked disheartened. "Oh, but I have no way of contacting him..."

Shirakawa studiously ignored the fleeting look of victory on Touya Akira's face.

"Oh, wait, I know!" Adachi declared, smile returning. "Can I have your phone number, Fujiwara-kun? We can keep in touch that way!"

Shirakawa subsequently ignored the fleeting look of indignation on Touya Akira's face as Hikaru gave his number to the pleasantly mild-mannered 3-dan pro. Shirakawa had Hikaru follow him down the hall, only mildly irritated as Akira followed them along - he'd already resigned himself to the fact that his student was basically the prodigy's obsession.

At the very least, Akira seemed to have a reason for following them: Ogata was standing in the lobby surrounded by three other children, holding one of the boys by the wrist in a vice-like grip. The girl and the bespectacled boy smiled at Hikaru when they saw him, and astonishingly enough, even turning that same look on Akira himself.

Shirakawa paused on his way by. "I need to talk to all of the insei first, give him 10 more minutes," he explained.

Ogata nodded, moving forward to clasp Hikaru on the shoulder and lean down a bit so that his words could only be heard by those in their immediate vicinity.

"Sai says good job, he's proud of you," he stated clearly. Shirakawa almost gaped at the warmth in his tone. "Supposedly he's also trying to cook a celebratory dinner, but I figure that just means we're going to have take-out tonight. Your choice of restaurant."

Hikaru nodded a little stiffly, but there was a suspiciously wet sheen to his eyes that neither adult missed.

* * *

"Mirai-chan," Isumi coaxed gently, frowning slightly as his little brother wiggled anxiously in his seat. The toddler was energetic as always, disliking having to sit still at the dining table and not very partial to Isumi's attempts at feeding him.

"Mirai-chan, be a good boy and finish your breakfast," his mother ordered as she picked up some of the child's stray toys littered about the room. Isumi's stepfather was seated at the table with a hot cup of tea, watching the teen's increasingly exasperated efforts with a fond smile.

"I'm full," Mirai said with sad, woeful eyes directed up at his older brother.

Isumi rose a disbelieving eyebrow. "From what? This is breakfast."

"I'm tired," the toddler tried in an abrupt change of tracks. Isumi's stepfather chuckled, reaching forward to swipe a few pieces of the apple the insei had diced.

"Yes, it must be so exhausting having your older brother feed you," the man noted in good humor. Mirai nodded solemnly but promptly started giggling when his father mimed train noises in an attempt to feed him an apple piece.

After several failed attempts to get the child to eat something, Isumi's mother finally got tired of their antics and liberated the toddler from their attentions and set about feeding Mirai herself. Isumi reluctantly trailed his stepfather out of the kitchen, mildly disheartened that the little boy wasn't being very receptive to his doting affections.

"Two is a difficult age, isn't it?" his stepfather mused, smiling at the insei encouragingly. "I think you're the only teenager I know who would be so disappointed."

Isumi blushed, trying to avoid eye contact to save some shred of his dignity. "I'm his older brother," he defended himself weakly. Even he knew it was a bit odd - but he'd come to think of it as cementing his role in this new family.

While his stepfather and his family had been nothing but welcoming of Isumi and his mother, this did little to lay to rest Isumi's fears of exclusion - it was amazing, in a way, how deep the scars of abandonment could run in a child. If Isumi could make himself irreplaceable to the child that shared his and his stepfather's blood, he would feel more secure in the family he now had. No matter how hard his stepfather tried to prove he would not leave or cast aside Isumi, as Isumi's biological father had done, the insei still had trouble believing him so whole-heartedly. Family was supposed to be for forever, was supposed to be able to endure any hardship, was supposed to be loyal and kind to each other - Isumi wanted to believe this more than anything and he was terrified of ruining it.

"You know," his stepfather started with a teasing smile. "They call that a brother-complex~!"

"Dad!" Isumi's blush deepened.

The man snickered. "My, my," he remarked. "Akari-chan would be so disappointed to learn that she lost her first love to a toddler..."

Isumi groaned. "Why are you bringing up Akari-chan? She's only in junior high! And she does not have a crush on me, she just sees me as an older brother!"

"Is that so?" his stepfather echoed with a grin. "So, the girl-next-door isn't your type? I learn something new about you every day, Shinichirou-kun."

"Ty- That isn't what I- She has nothing to do with my type!" Isumi blustered.

Shindou Masao laughed, "If you say so."

* * *

**OMAKE**

_(Messages Kishimoto received during the Young Lions Tournament.)_

From _: My Sexy Lady Love_

_Don't forget we're meeting at 2pm at the bus stop! If you're late again, I'll dump you._

_d(OvO)_

_. . ._

From _: Hidaka Yuuri_

_What? You changed back my contact name? You're such a killjoy._

_(O.O)p_

_. . ._

From _: Yun-sensei_

_Miura Takao-kun has been banned from the clubroom for the time being._

_. . ._

From _: Yun-sensei_

_He used one of the game records to wad up a used piece of gum. I will not abide such rudeness._

_. . ._

From _: Yun-sensei_

_Who is vice-captain of the club again? Hidaka-san? I'm sure she would not say I am over-reacting._

_. . ._

From _: Yun-sensei_

_Who approved Kuno as vice-captain? You're lying to me, aren't you._

_. . ._

From _: Yun-sensei_

_Very well. Lift Miura's ban, but only if he's on game record duty for the next month._

_. . ._

From _: Tsutsui Kimihiro_

_Will you be watching the Young Lions Tournament? I really think they would appreciate your support._

_. . ._

From _: Blond Bangs Idiot_

_What the hell is that supposed to mean? I hope you choke on a croquette and die!_

_. . ._

From _: Miura Takao_

_Thank you so much, buchou! You're a saint! A real angel! You still want to try making that stuffed custard pie thing, right? I'll get Takemina-sensei to let you use the Home Ec room and supplies._

_. . ._

From _: Tsutsui Kimihiro_

_I meant Akira-kun would appreciate your support._

_. . ._

From _: Go Pro Idiot_

_Senpai, I don't know what you mean by that. In any case, please enjoy your day off and I hope your studies are going well. It must be nice having so much free time._

_. . ._

From _: Tsutsui Kimihiro_

_Kishimoto-kun, what exactly did you message them?!_

_. . ._

From _: Yun-sensei_

_Wait, if Hidaka-san isn't the vice-captain, why does she act like that in the clubroom?_

Kishimoto closed his phone with a contented sigh. Sometimes the idiots around him made his life difficult, but he wouldn't trade it for anything.

* * *

 

 **A/N** : I know I was just so late for this chapter, but I really have no excuse. I hated it and struggled with it, and this was the only draft of it I actually partially liked. Even now, I'm still screaming internally. (sighs) And for some unclear reason, the line breaks were not working.

But thanks for everyone's support! No matter how long the wait was, you guys were still so nice! Honestly, I'm blessed with awesome readers - you guys never get angry about anything, haha! :) It means a lot to me: your feedback, your support, and your concrit!

Note 1) _**"jinsei game"**_ \- It's the Life board game.

Note 2) **Rizumu** \- Personally, I feel he understands Hikaru on a level that even Sai and Ogata cannot reach, more from obsessive attachment and similar circumstance. This doesn't necessarily translate into his actions being helpful, as you can see here that even his intention to help Hikaru (by boosting his aggression so that he wins more) did more to hurt. The repercussions of this particular tactic will be dealt with next chapter.

Note 3) _ **"Michio-san"**_ \- how Honda refers to Shirakawa in private. (You guys almost got the backstory this chapter but I was like "nah, let's do it later!")

Note 4) **Hikaru's Level in Go** \- It really is too fast, isn't it? I was trying to tone it down, but still... Well, he's lost to an actual Pro (again), so hopefully it doesn't get too carried away. (cue more internal screaming)

Anyway, thank you for reading! **Please be kind and drop a review.**


	16. Interlude Two

**A/N** : I did debate just sticking this on to the end of the last chapter, but I already decided that Interlude chapters have to be separate (aesthetics?), so... It's just one short chapter after another, haha~

**Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.

**Warnings** : I hope everyone starts remembering the canon characters' first names because I am ruthless.

* * *

**Interlude II.**

* * *

_July 1999_

Sai had known this would be a bad idea, but even then, there was something appealing about being wanted by someone. Not for money, not for prestige or glory - but for his own talents, for the skills he spent years honing without the omnipresent shadow of his father hanging over him. The very act of breathing the air in this house without knowing his father dwelled in any of its corners was enough to keep him diligent. But even then, it was such a strange desire: the wish to be needed but not depended upon.

Sai wondered what it said about himself, to know that even if he could navigate his career and his life choices as independently as possible, he still had no desire to share that responsibility of living with anyone else. To pass unnoticed, from this lifetime to the next - perhaps that, above all else, was how Sai wanted to go.

(Unlike his mother, with her wide unseeing eyes, body suspended like a macabre dream catcher above him.)

A false earnestness hung about the small boy he shared the room with, a calculated front shabby by Sai's own standards. He had been younger than the boy when his own family sought to gauge his abilities. It was unbecoming of him to foist such appraisal on the child before him, especially since he found the gap between them so wide.

"Kousuke-kun," Sai started softly. He tried to speak gently, because the words cut deeper when coated in satin rather than barbs. "Do you like to play Go?"

"Of course," the child answered. "I wouldn't bother learning from you, _oji-san_ , if I didn't."

_Lies, lies, lies._

Sai smiled. This bout of teaching would come to an end sooner rather than later, because even if the child was of his cousin's blood, he clearly lacked most of Sousuke's innate ability to act. There was noting shameful in being unlike them, but to play these games as if he were was bothersome.

"And I don't get to see you very often," Kousuke continued. "I think spending time with family is important. You are Father's most beloved cousin, after all."

Ah, there it was. Sousuke always did have a way of maneuvering people to increase his impact on them. Sai spared a moment to calm his rapidly-beating heart, skin flushing lightly as the memories dredged up uncomfortable feelings. Sousuke wouldn't tell his own child those very same memories, but then again - he was still of the Fujiwara blood, and was there really anything more corrupt than Sai's own bloodline?

"I can see the resemblance to your father now. He always did value family," Sai returned evenly. The statement was not a compliment.

Ochi Kousuke smiled in a way reminiscent of the man Sai had tried to avoid for years.

"Father's told me a lot about you, _oji-san_. How you're never really there but never really gone," the boy confided. "You're rather like a ghost, aren't you?"

 

* * *

**A/N** : -kisses-


	17. Last Blind Stitch

**A/N** : I was really excited for this chapter, moreso because I'm really excited for the next chapter.

**Disclaimer** : I do not own _Hikaru no Go_.

**Pairings** : Endgame pairings are still the same, hint of MitaniHikaru in this chapter though.

**Warnings** : Ditto the last chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 15**

_Last Blind Stitch_

* * *

Shirakawa was holding a clipboard in his hands and looking over it silently, although Isumi didn't see why the man bothered; everyone knew it was the First Round tournament results. They also knew - with the possible exception of Hikaru, who was last to show up - that all of the insei had been shut out of succession to the next round. Isumi's own opponent, the quiet Madoka 3-dan, had defeated him cleanly just an hour after lunch, leaving the oldest insei plenty of time to survey the remaining players and gauge the results.

Shirakawa sighed. "Well, no one passed into the second round," the insei instructor announced. Further to the back, Nase was cringing and Ikeshita fought back a flood of tears. Waya scowled but surprisingly said nothing. Instead he smacked Hikaru on the arm in a clear 'I-told-you-so' manner, though, and Isumi belatedly realized he'd missed something.

Shirakawa held the clipboard loosely at his side so he could peer at his top class of insei without obstruction. "While I am disappointed no one advanced further, I can still say I liked what I saw from the observation room. I will give everyone a copy of their games played today the next time we meet on Tuesday. Additionally, I will make myself available to discuss your games throughout the week."

That was Shirakawa-speak for ' _you will discuss your foolhardy moves with me either at your own volition or I will hunt you down_ '. Predictably, Fukui whimpered and even the immovable Isumi began to sweat a bit at the prospect.

"And, as per regulations, the insei classes will soon be halted in preparation for the Pro Exams," Shirakawa reminded. "This following Sunday will be our last class together. Once halted, I will be available for personal study sessions at the Institute only on Mondays and Wednesdays, in the afternoon. I will give priority to those who do not have formal teachers, however."

This, of course, prioritized those like Isumi and Nase - which was understandable. It would be redundant for Waya to see Shirakawa personally when they were in the same study group, and Hikaru coming to see him would just be greedy, considering he had both the _Meijin_ and a _ninth-dan_ at his disposal.

"During this break from the insei class, I still expect and encourage you to remain in contact with each other. You can discuss games with your fellow insei, and small study groups would not be amiss. Games with your teachers and those of higher-ranks are always a valuable experience but you can learn a lot from those on your own level as well," Shirakawa explained. "Nase-kun, I would also like to remind you that beating yakuza in the gambling parlors is _not_ encouraged."

"These cute outfits don't buy themselves, you know," Nase muttered under her breath. Fukui's heart began to beat faster, likely with the adoration young males tend to feel for pretty and dangerous women.

Shirakawa checked his wristwatch. "That will be all for today. I want to congratulate everyone for participating in this tournament, and for trying your best. I expect to see everyone on time on Tuesday," he said, finishing off this dismissal with a winning smile.

The insei could not leave quickly enough. As expected, only Honda hung back to talk with their instructor as the rest high-tailed it out of the room. Most left together in small, chattering groups out the front door, including Nase and Fukui; Waya and Isumi wandered back down one of the hallways, likely to find one pro or another that they knew; Hikaru himself made his way back over to where Tsutsui and Akira were waiting in the lobby.

"We're meeting them at Ogata-sensei's car," Tsutsui explained at Hikaru's inquisitive look.

"You left those three alone?" Hikaru asked. "Will there even be a car left when we get there?"

A pained expression briefly flashed across Tsutsui's face, much like a tired mother whose children often got up to no good when she wasn't around. Hikaru snickered at the sight, walking in step with Akira as they made their way back to the parking lot.

The car was, in fact, intact by the time they made it back; Rizumu was crouched low to the ground, staring at a grasshopper limping its way across the pavement, as Kaneko and Ogata looked to be conversing with varying degrees of enthusiasm (Kaneko, very - Ogata, not so much). The girl caught sight of them first, smile spreading across her lips as she gave them a wave of greeting.

"Hikaru-kun! Akira-kun! We were just talking about you," she explained with a leer.

"Then I already don't want to know," Hikaru returned quickly.

Kaneko tsk'd mockingly. "You're as rude as ever. You aren't even going to ask why Akira-kun and I know each other?"

"We met at lunch, when I went to greet Tsutsui-san," Akira explained because (as Kaneko secretly suspected) he liked to ruin other people's fun, particularly if it was at his expense. Tsutsui looked even more pained at the recollection. Hikaru was suddenly very grateful that Waya had accosted him.

Ogata cut them off, one hand on Hikaru's head to ward off any sarcastic comments. "Is everyone here going to be having dinner with us? I need a headcount." He directed this at the only three who were optional.

"If you don't mind."

"Pardon my intrusion."

"I _am_ hungry."

Ogata valiantly did not roll his eyes. "You're all going to have to somehow squish together in the back then. Where did you want to eat, Hikaru? Sai already called me in a panic five minutes ago to tell me he burnt the food."

_Of course_ , Hikaru thought wryly. "Anywhere cheap is fine."

"...sushi?" Ogata tried.

Hikaru looked somewhere in the general vicinity of Ogata's nose, "Sure."

_That's a no, then,_ Ogata decided. "Barbecue?"

Hikaru's eyes moved from the nose to just under his eyes. "That's fine," he answered.

Ogata flipped open his phone with a decisive nod. "Barbecue it is. I know the owner of this place in Shibuya, we'll go there."

Kaneko looked satisfied by the turn of events. Granted, she didn't completely understand how Ogata knew which restaurant Hikaru wanted despite his ambivalent answers, but she figured it was more of a family-thing which she had no place in understanding. Tsutsui looked pleased by the conversation and remained smiling happily as Ogata made the call to his restaurant-owner friend.

Akira came up to Hikaru's side, eyes narrowed in consideration. "Is barbecue your favorite kind of food?" he asked after a second of consideration.

Hikaru blinked, taken-aback by the boy's serious demeanor regarding such an innocent topic. "Uh, it doesn't really matter to me... Food is food."

"He prefers salty things over sweet things," Rizumu piped up from the ground.

"Stalker," Kaneko sing-songed.

"Fat bitch-"

"Rizumu-kun! We don't talk like that!" Tsutsui snapped in horror.

Ogata walked a few steps away, planting a hand over his free ear. "Sorry, the kids are loud, I didn't catch that... What? No, they're not my kids!" he contested hotly, turning slightly to catch sight of the otherwise rowdy group of children near him.

"Oh, ew!" Kaneko screeched, backing away. Rizumu was reaching towards her with a deviant smile, the smashed remains of the grasshopper decorating his hands.

"Rizumu! No touching anything until you've cleaned your hands!" Ogata chastised. He scowled at the audible laughter from the other end of the receiver.

* * *

Hikaru rose on Monday morning and discovered why, exactly, no one had ever bothered to teach Sai how to cook. Ogata was currently frying what looked to be chicken in the skillet as he muttered what was either curse words or a recipe under his breath. There was a smoking pot being drowned in tap water in the sink, likely an attempt by Sai to fix breakfast. Said Meijin was seated at the table with a morose look on his face, clutching a cup of coffee forlornly.

"Ah, Hikaru - good morning!" Sai greeted with a wan smile, attempting to rise.

"Sai! Don't. Touch. _Anything_ ," Ogata growled out from the disaster zone.

Sai froze, sitting back down in his chair with a frown and still holding his cup of coffee. Hikaru gave him a one-armed hug, moving past to help Ogata. The man barked at him to start making the miso soup, setting a pack of eggs on the counter before using chopsticks to carry the chicken out of the skillet.

Rizumu came out just as Hikaru finished making the soup, taking one of the open seats next to Sai. Hikaru handed out the allotted breakfast (one bowl of miso soup, one bowl of _oyakodon_ ), taking the seat on Sai's other side. He absent-mindedly stopped Rizumu from reaching for his chopsticks, waiting for Ogata to join them. The man carried over four cups of steaming hot tea to hand out before taking his own seat.

" _Itadakimasu_ ," Hikaru said. He made sure Rizumu echoed him before he started eating.

"Do you have a tutoring class today?" Sai asked his friend. Sai himself was dressed in only casual clothes, as he wouldn't have to show up at the Institute today. Ogata was already donned in his usual business-wear, although it was somewhat obscured by the apron he'd pulled on for cooking.

"Yes but I'll be back in time for dinner. Hikaru, are you going to the Heart of Stone tonight?" Ogata asked.

Hikaru nodded. "I promised Akira I'd turn up, and I think Kaneko-chan is coming too," he explained.

He turned to give Rizumu a curious look. "You remember how to get there, right? We should be there by 5:30..."

Rizumu nodded, bored. "I remember."

"We're probably gonna eat dinner with Kaneko-chan then, she mentioned a new oden shop nearby that she wanted to try," Hikaru said. He'd already saved up most of his allowance so that he could cover Rizumu's share.

Sai and Rizumu were left in charge of clean up as Ogata off-handedly dragged Hikaru out the door. The boy was already running late so Ogata opted to drive him most of the way. ("Can I drive?" "Like hell!") Thankfully, Ogata and Hikaru never left much of a mess after cooking so cleaning up after them was always a short affair.

Rizumu moved about quietly, a whisper of movement lacking any true presence. He'd picked up the dishes at the table to deposit by the sink, leaving Sai to wash them. Hikaru had taught his friend the proper way to clean up after himself, and it made Sai feel all the guiltier as he watched the russet-haired boy move about.

"Rizumu-kun, we need to talk."

Rizumu looked up from wiping down the table. The boy was naturally wary of those around him and there was always a vague air of dislike when he looked at Sai. The man didn't know where the contempt stemmed from: perhaps from Sai's essential robbing of Hikaru from the Gate, or that Rizumu thought he could not trust someone who never asked for anything in return?

It didn't matter in the long run, though, what Rizumu thought of him. The boy may be Mitani (in looks if nothing else), but from the very beginning - it was Hikaru that Sai wanted to help most. There was a part of him that wanted to help Mitani too, but that was natural sympathy, the type when someone sees someone less fortunate and does what they can to assist. Compared to what Sai felt for Hikaru, it was a pale compassion.

Sai had known Hikaru would feel strained at his first official tournament. He'd done what he could to help lessen that burden, to ensure that Hikaru wouldn't think that winning was the only outcome Sai expected, that his own expectations had little to no effect on just how much Sai loved the boy.

Rizumu had nearly destroyed all of that hard work.

In the moment Ogata had not been around to rein him in, when even Tsutsui's attention had not been ever sharp, Rizumu had disappeared to confront Hikaru alone. He'd done it in an attempt to help, but in the end, he'd only confirmed all of Hikaru's fears - fears that Sai had been trying to put to rest for months. And neither Ogata nor Sai would have known if Honda Tohru hadn't approached the bespectacled ninth-dan to sate his own curiosity on just what was the chip on Rizumu's shoulders was about.

Sai had known this day was coming. He'd been planning it since Rizumu had first come to them. It was an inevitability the moment the boy had first spoken to them, but it still ate at the part of Sai that didn't want to hold the responsibility of hurting others. For Hikaru, though - Sai would do anything.

The Meijin went to retrieve the files he'd locked away in the filing cabinet in his bedroom. He'd kept quite a bit there, including the copies of Hikaru's official adoption into the Fujiwara clan and assorted bills. His lawyer, Isayama-sensei, kept the originals in his own office but was diligent enough to make copies for Sai's own benefit.

Sai picked up the few he'd need to show Rizumu, returning back to the living area. The boy remained standing and Sai wasn't going to waste his breath asking him to sit; he knew well enough that Rizumu was more comfortable when he didn't feel boxed in.

"I had my lawyer draw up the drafts, so most of these forms have yet to be legalized," Sai explained calmly. He had to approach this carefully; Rizumu may not pose the same kind of flight risk Hikaru often undertook, but there was still a high enough probability. "You said yourself that you don't remember anything from before that place - the Gate - and we have yet to find any known family members of yours."

Rizumu didn't say anything.

"As it is now, you can't be expected to just stay inside for the rest of your life. You're still young - you need to go to school, get a foot up and into the outside world," Sai continued. "So I decided to establish your identity."

One of the many problems with Rizumu was that he didn't exist. It was more than homelessness - it was a lack of anything formal, no documents could be linked to him and no identification provided. Sai couldn't enroll him in a rehabilitation program or a school, couldn't even take him to a doctor without some form of identification.

So as quickly as he possibly could, Sai tried to get those documents. This had entailed even more involvement from his family, but what's done is done, and they'd accomplished what Sai could not with his own salary.

Sai placed the papers on the table, sliding one page in particular closer to the still boy. "We'll need to see our family doctor to get most of the information validated, but I've already had that scheduled. Currently, your age is approximated to be twelve years old, you're designated male, and a Japanese citizen."

Sai pointed to the applicable lines but was well aware that Rizumu wasn't even looking at the paper. Instead the boy was staring at him; it was easier for him to read the emotions on Sai's face than feign any understanding of the words printed on paper before him.

"Officially," Sai said. "Your name is now Mitani Yuuki."

Rizumu took that in. "...I exist."

Sai looked at him. "You exist," he confirmed.

"Why?" Because Rizumu didn't believe in goodwill. Much like Hikaru, he believed in the give-and-take - and in some respects, it was an applicable viewpoint here.

Sai didn't speak for a moment. He wanted to explain to Rizumu why the next step was necessary, but saying it aloud seemed like a bad idea. For one, how would he go about explaining that, at the most basic level - he did prioritize Hikaru over Rizumu? Even aside from that, explaining that Rizumu's latest behavior at the Young Lions tournament was unacceptable wasn't likely to be understood; Rizumu was unlikely to see any problem in his own behavior. Assistance took various forms, and to Rizumu, his own heavy-handed approach was just as useful as Sai's more gentle one.

"You are suffering from withdrawal. There are rehabilitation centers that can help with that," Sai explained as carefully as he could. "You will also need help with school. You are far behind where someone your age should be, through no fault of your own - but you will still need to learn."

"Why?" Rizumu repeated.

Sai put the papers back together. "Because there is still plenty of time for you to discover who you are outside of the Gate, you only need a little help to get you started. I want to help you, because you are Hikaru's most beloved friend and someone that I _can_ help."

"You're going to send me away, aren't you?" Rizumu had an innate ability to discern what others often left unsaid. It would do him well later in life, Sai reflected, but here it was just making an already difficult situation even harder.

"My aunt and uncle offered take you in," Sai said cautiously. "They raised me when I was about your age as well. My aunt has a lot of experience helping those with addictions and the like. They can provide for you in a way that I lack."

"I don't want to go," Rizumu replied. There was an edge to his words, a premonition that he was ready to lash out. Sai had heard that same tint when he'd grazed closer and closer to Hikaru's defenses in the beginning. "I don't want to leave Hikaru."

"You understand Hikaru very well, you know what he's been through and you can even tell when he's holding himself back," Sai allowed. "Time and again, I have noticed you trying to help him. I do not doubt your affection for him, nor him for you - but that isn't the problem here." Well, it was part of the problem, but Sai resolved not to let Rizumu know that. It wouldn't help here.

"Then what _is_ the problem?" _Why are you trying to get rid of me?_ went unsaid.

"Rizumu-kun," Sai sighed. "Tell me - what's your favorite animal?"

Rizumu blinked, taken completely off-guard. Sai waited only a moment, but no answer was forthcoming; the boy looked as close to floundering as Sai had ever seen.

"You can't answer, can you?" Sai questioned softly. It was not judgmental, just an observation he had validated. "Just like if I'd asked you what your hobbies are, what your favorite movies are, anything personal - you wouldn't be able to answer it. For all this time you've spent with us, you've been so focused on Hikaru that you've neglected yourself. You've never allowed yourself the luxury of just discovering what you like or don't like."

"I like Hikaru," Rizumu countered. "That's all the matters."

"No, it's not," Sai returned. "You are a person. You exist. _You matter too_ , Rizumu-kun."

Rizumu wanted to reject that. Sai wondered, in despair, just what Mitani's counterpart had been through to devalue himself so much. No sense of self, no boundaries to respect - just how had Mitani survived so long with such a mindset? Had he been forced to survive? The thought was so horrible, Sai didn't dare delve into it.

"We'll help Hikaru first then," Rizumu tried to compromise. "Then we can work on me."

"We cannot just put you aside like you are somehow less," Sai said.

"I don't want to go!"

That had to be the first time Rizumu had ever declared what he actually wanted, especially to yell it out so forcefully. It wasn't exactly helpful in this situation, but Sai was calm enough to see that it was better than Rizumu just agreeing to his demands without question.

"For both your own and Hikaru's sakes, you must," Sai returned evenly.

There was a violence in these children that manifested when pushed. Just as when Hikaru had tackled him when they were first getting to know each other, just as when Kaga burst into his apartment without preamble - just like now, when Mitani whipped around and struck out at the nearest inanimate object.

Sai watched with dispassionate eyes as his goban was sent skittering and toppled over; the fine quality showed in that it didn't crack, but there was noticeable scratches on its front and side from where the goke and go stones had gotten caught up in its journey. Rizumu still wasn't satisfied, moving forward to hoist it up; adrenaline and pure anger were his only strengths here, leaving him just enough energy to throw it one more time.

"I'm not going!" he screamed, making his way to it once more. Sai finally went to stop him because at this point, if he went unchecked, Rizumu ran the very real possibility of hurting himself. "I'm not going! _I'm not going_!"

Misdirected rage at their surroundings was likely how these children had gotten by when they couldn't strike at the people who hurt them, animalistic in intensity but short-lived. Rizumu tired out soon, half-held in Sai's grip; he wasn't as gentle as he usually was with Hikaru but he was hardly harsh.

"This is not a punishment," Sai started softly. Rizumu must not be under the impression that Sai was punishing him for some imagined slight, or just for existing - the boy had been hurt enough before that the assumption would be easy for him to make. "But you need help, Rizumu-kun - you deserve to be helped to the fullest capacity, not some half-hearted attempt at it."

"I don't need it!" Rizumu screamed back. "It doesn't matter! I can help Hikaru!"

"Can you?"

That stopped him. Sai watched the boy's body-wide flinch with clinical disinterest, knew he was recalling the same things Sai was: Hikaru didn't get much sleep these days, trying his best to help Rizumu with the severe withdrawal symptoms, the mood swings, the daily struggle of just interacting with people outside of Hikaru himself. Hikaru had no rest between his school, his insei classes, and Rizumu - not to mention all the internalized issues Sai was trying to help resolve.

Sai saw the moment Rizumu realized he was the burden in Hikaru's life.

"You can't help Hikaru," Sai continued more softly, gentle in speech but not in words. "You can't help anyone as you are now."

The man almost wanted to hug the boy - the sheer vulnerability in Mitani's expression was more than enough to pull at his heart. But in this moment, his ability to hold himself aloof was necessary; Rizumu did not crave physical affection from Sai, and the man knew it would only disturb the boy. So instead he picked up his files and returned them to the filing cabinet in his room, leaving the child breathing heavily as he sorted out his thoughts.

Rizumu remained still when Sai came back, his breaths slowing down to a more normal pace. He looked similar to a marionette with its strings cut, all loose limbs and frail features. Sai reminded himself that this was for everyone's benefit: Rizumu would discover himself with some time away from Hikaru, and Hikaru could recover more without worrying about Rizumu so much.

This, Sai knew, was the only possible way they could all cope.

* * *

"So what do you think?"

Rizumu's completely bland look was taken in by the girl with only a cursory glance. Of course. Rizumu didn't bother to listen to anyone talk unless he was insulted or it was Hikaru speaking. She wondered once again where her classmate picked up such a weird friend.

"I said we should go to the beach next month since summer vacation starts," she repeated. At this point, she just had no one left to talk to; Hikaru and Akira were discussing ( _More like having a lovers' spat,_ she thought vindictively) in the row next to theirs and she'd already played a game with Sakai-san just ten minutes ago. Rizumu hadn't done more than slump over one of the empty Go boards as if he planned on taking a nap from the moment they'd arrived, so she figured he was free enough to listen to her.

"Why would anyone want to see you in a swimsuit?" Rizumu snarked.

_Catty today, huh?_ Kaneko observed. "My thighs are strong enough to crush you between them."

That startled a laugh out of the boy. She'd been fielding insults about her weight since she was little; it'd take more than crude remarks from this waif of a boy to offend her now. In retrospect, it was probably this unruffled quality of her's that allowed Rizumu to relax so easily around her.

"Have you been to the beach before?" she asked. She doubted the boy ventured outside very often; his pale complexion was similar to that of a ghost.

"No." Rizumu didn't believe in sharing anything about himself. He answered and that was the end of the conversation, which made chatting with him such a monumental task. (Secretly, Hikaru was amazed the girl got along so well with the russet-haired boy.) Kaneko wasn't naturally intrusive but she was stubborn, not to mention bored - she'd only allotted about 15 more minutes for Hikaru and Akira to finish their little lovefest before she cut them off and dragged all of them to the oden shop she'd been eyeing lately.

"Then we're going," she decided. "We'll invite the senpai too. I think Kishimoto has a girlfriend he can bring along, so I won't feel so outnumbered."

Rizumu muttered something derogatory under his breath but didn't outright reject her idea. Kaneko took that as a win.

"...what do you do at the beach?" the boy queried.

Kaneko thought about it. She didn't go very often either, but the few times she'd been she remembered doing quite a lot since she's always been rather active. "Well, there's swimming and building sandcastles, of course... There's also beach volleyball, and a lot of beach food stalls open up too."

"This sounds like too much work," Rizumu noted disdainfully.

"You really need to get off that bony ass of your's and do something fun for once," she countered evenly.

Rizumu snorted. "Like I haven't heard that before," he grumbled.

"What are you guys talking about?" Hikaru interrupted. Apparently Akira had taken a breather from needing Hikaru's undivided attention long enough for the blond-banged boy to focus on them. Kaneko honestly didn't know why the girls in her class didn't get along better with Hikaru - the people he knew were a riot.

"We're having a beach trip next month," Kaneko informed him. Asking nicely wasn't in her nature at the moment.

"We are?" Hikaru echoed.

Akira frowned. "Go will be hard to play at the beach," he noted aloud.

"Shut up, Akira." Kaneko and Rizumu threw back without a single change in expression.

"But it sounds fun!" Hikaru agreed easily. "I don't think I've been to the beach before."

"Me neither," Rizumu piped up, quietly eager to establish more common ground with the blond-banged boy. Akira looked mildly irritated, but Kaneko privately thought this was more because he couldn't claim the same thing rather than their prior rudeness.

"We could ask Ogata-san to take us," Akira suggested.

Kaneko pouted. "No adults! We can just take a bus!"

"Akira needs adult guidance, though," Rizumu suggested with a smirk.

Kaneko made a low _'ehh?'_ sound with her own matching smirk. "He only feels safe in adult hands," she nodded sagely.

"That's enough, you guys," Hikaru interrupted, stepping a bit in front of Akira and looking thoroughly disgruntled. Kaneko didn't see what the problem was but that shut Rizumu up pretty quick; the russet-haired boy ended up looking at the tabletop with a bland expression.

"I can go without adult supervision," Akira disagreed, clearly not reading the situation accurately. A tiny part in both Hikaru and Rizumu marveled at the boy.

"Awesome," Kaneko agreed winningly, as if she'd planned everything. "You get to ask Kishimoto and his girlfriend to come then. So, Hikaru-kun - rock-paper-scissors for Tsutsui?"

* * *

Sai had thought about not telling Hikaru about Rizumu's imminent move until the day of, but there was no telling what his aunt and uncle would do if they caught sight of the breakdown. The Meijin had a hard enough time impressing upon his mother's older brother that he was fine trying to live so independently from his father - adding on a troubled child was bound to make the man worry more.

Hikaru was already getting nervous. It was obvious in the way the boy fidgeted, failing to meet Sai's eyes and instead glancing about the dining area as if searching for something else to occupy his attention. Ogata was making minimal clatter as he went about making dinner in the kitchen, and Rizumu was currently listening to music on his newly-bought discman in Sai's bedroom. For all intents and purposes, they were as alone as possible in Sai's apartment.

"It's okay, Hikaru, no one is in trouble," Sai started off first. It was important to defuse the tension, to regard the matter as light even if it wasn't. No one was being punished here and there was nothing shameful about to occur; it was just a necessary move and something that held benefit for all involved.

Hikaru relaxed only marginally. After coming home the night before to an even more closed-off Rizumu and a noticeably beaten goban, he'd worried his friend had done irreparable damage. Sai's cheerful attitude despite this had been comforting, if a bit jarring; even Ogata had looked put off-kilter.

"This is about Rizumu," Sai started off. He reached forward to grab Hikaru's hand, a gesture of comfort more than restraint. Hikaru had paled, green eyes darting from Sai to the roughed-up form of the goban still standing in its usual spot.

"Did he..." Hikaru couldn't finish the question, eyes riveted to the object.

Sai nodded. "He did, but that was...an expected reaction. I talked with him yesterday about this. Hikaru - _look at me_. This is not a punishment, not for him and definitely not for you," Sai stated firmly. "Do you understand?"

Hikaru wouldn't meet his eyes but he did nod.

Sai did not believe him for one second. "The goban is a material object. It can be replaced - it's not important."

Ogata made an odd choking sound.

"But it's made of kaya wood," Hikaru refuted weakly. "Those are expe-"

"It's not important," Sai interrupted, internally wondering where the boy had learned about _grain types_. Was it Akira? Do children, even Go-obsessed ones, really study up on grain types? "I'll break it myself and throw it away, if you don't believe me."

Hikaru shook his head hurriedly. "No, it's fine, I believe you!" he cried. Sometimes the lengths Sai went to were insane!

Sai stared at him for a long moment, gauging that, but gave a nod. "As I was telling Rizumu yesterday, I have been able to produce documents giving him some stability. These include a birth certificate guaranteeing him a name and citizenship; theoretically, he can now enroll in school."

To Hikaru, the idea of Rizumu in school was one he had never considered. Leaving aside legal matters, he knew that his friend had little to no education: Rizumu wasn't even very proficient at reading _hiragana_ , the most basic level of Japanese characters. He could count only within the context of money, a type of insurance that Masaki and Tomorou had taught just to make sure they were not gypped of any fees.

In only two months, Sai had provided a safe enough haven that no one from the Gate had come for Rizumu, and even went so far as to create documents that gave Rizumu an identity in the world. Hikaru had not thought any of this was possible, not even just an hour ago.

"That's..." Hikaru couldn't continue. _Fantastic. Wonderful. More than I could have hoped for._

Sai was always going above and beyond. Hikaru didn't deserve him and knew it keenly.

"I think education is important. I think being healthy, in both body and mind, is even moreso - which is why I got in contact with my aunt and uncle," Sai continued. "They brought me up when I was just a bit older than you. My aunt has experience with people with drug addictions."

Hikaru blinked. "You want Rizumu to see your aunt?" he guessed slowly.

Sai paused, looking at him. He was calm, his shoulders straight but posture relaxed - it reminded Hikaru heavily of the morning he'd returned from Amekura's place and learned Sai had adopted him. An uneasy pit formed in his stomach, swallowing his next assumption, and his eyes fell from Sai's face to the table.

"They offered to take Rizumu in," Sai stated. "They live in Ibaraki but will be here on Sunday to pick him up."

Hikaru knew that, sooner or later, Rizumu would have to go. He had never entertained the possibility that Sai would adopt him too, would never demand such a thing from the man _(whymewhymewhyME)_ but still - it hurt.

The worst part was that Sai made complete sense. Rizumu needed help, he needed more assistance than Hikaru or Sai could provide: between his health problems, his appalling lack of education, and his poor social skills, Rizumu would need undivided attention from a guardian that could afford such. Sai not only had a full-time job, he also had Hikaru.

Hikaru knew this.

He knew this, but-

"I understand," Hikaru finally choked out.

He did not sound near tears, nor angry - as Sai had suspected he would be. He just sounded incredibly hollow, and that was even more alarming to the man.

"Hikaru," Sai tried. He wanted to defuse this but he didn't know how. "This-This isn't a punishment. He needs help, and this is the only way."

"I understand," Hikaru repeated in that same tone.

And horribly, unforgivably - he did understand.

* * *

When Ogata was in the 3rd grade, he'd had his first crush: a pretty little girl named Kaori-chan that always styled her hair in pigtails. He'd been too nervous to talk to her, and that type of puppy love ended as they moved into the next grade.

In his first year of middle school, his mother's health had turned for the worse. One of his friends, Tomoki-kun, had even come with him to the hospital to visit when his mother had to stay for a few days after a particularly bad episode. Ogata had thought the boy's smile and shy manner had been utterly endearing. Eventually he'd made truffles and slipped them into Tomoki's shoe locker without identifying himself, and let his feelings patter out into nothing with that.

In his second year of high school, he'd started dating a girl in university. She had been sweet, with a cheerful disposition that could light up a room. He'd taken her on several dates to keep her satisfied with his company and used what meager funds he had to spoil her, but eventually broke up with her when he decided to pursue Go professionally.

His father had used to joke that despite having such a sour-looking expression on most of the time, he was quite the romantic. Ogata fully blamed that on his parents: they had been soppyingly in love and Ogata had always wanted that kind of relationship.

_But what kind of romance can start here?_ he wondered to himself, staring into the inky black mess that used to be chocolate. The smoldering remains of the confectionery was currently trying to match his mood.

"So what were you doing?" Ogata asked the other man. Sai looked equal parts guilty and heartbroken, a pitiful expression Ogata was careful not to look at so that he could keep the steel in his spine.

"I was trying to make fudge," Sai admitted. "Since Rizumu and Hikaru have looked so miserable lately... I wanted to make them some sweets..."

They both knew why the boys were so despondent, seeing as the reason was so obvious. However, the decision had been necessary - it was just by no means an easy one.

"You could have just asked me," Ogata stated. He was running the pot under water in the hopes that would somehow lift the burnt remains of the chocolate off. He'd pulled on his usual apron, intent on cleaning the mess and actually get around to making said desired sweets.

Sai avoided looking in Ogata's direction now. "You've been busy," he returned quietly. "You need to have time to yourself too, Seiji."

Ogata pulled out another pan without a word, moving over to Sai in order to slam it down onto the table. Sai jumped, taken off-guard, but Ogata left him little room to recover as he bent forward to match the Meijin's wide-eyed gaze.

"Are you my dad now too?" Ogata asked, voice dangerously low. "Are you going to start prescribing me mandatory relaxation times?"

Sai's mouth opened and closed a few times. "N-No! I didn't mean it that way-"

" _Oh?_ " Ogata interrupted in a predator's drawl. "So you're actually just tired of me being around? It _is_ your place, so if you want me gone - just tell me. Don't give me all this runaround bullshit."

"That-That isn't it!" Sai refuted, looking horrified. "I love having you around, I just didn't want to exploit your kindness-"

Ogata ignored the way his heart stumbled a bit over that L-word ( _I'm not a high school girl, dammit, control yourself!_ ), giving a satisfied nod that cut off Sai's stuttered words.

"Good," Ogata said. "Then trust me enough to believe that I will know when I need to relax and 'take time for myself', as you so nicely put it."

Sai nodded, the action almost frantic. Ogata backed off a couple steps, thankfully taking the pan with him. The bespectacled ninth-dan eyed the leftover ingredients that Sai hadn't gotten around to accidentally destroying, taking stock to see what could be done.

"Lucky for you, I make killer truffles," Ogata finally remarked, throwing the long-haired man a teasing smirk before moving back over to the stove.

Sai was silent as he watched Ogata work, violet eyes widening slowly in vague recognition. _Is it... Is it the apron?_ the Meijin wondered, mind in abrupt turmoil. _Have I always liked aprons and I just never realized it?_

* * *

Staring at his recorded match with hard eyes, Isumi felt the beginnings of what was most definitely dread stir in his gut. He knew he'd never been so well-prepared for anything before, knew that his skills would be enough to secure a spot as one of the three to graduate from the insei class into the pro leagues - but he still felt so inadequate.

He'd studied hard, he'd practiced more, he'd arranged more tutoring sessions with Shirakawa - all in the name of preparation. Even his grandfather had been trying to put him in contact with some of the lesser-ranked Go professionals, was taking him along to play games with his circle of Amateur players. Shindou Heihachi had been nothing but supportive of Isumi's chosen career, spreading an infectious approval throughout the family as a whole. Isumi had been endlessly grateful.

As an insei, Isumi had never been more ready.

He wanted to bury his head in the dirt.

"Isumi-san," Waya approached. "You're really pale... Did Shirakawa really beat you down that much?"

Honestly, in many ways, Waya was a godsend. Isumi had met with Shirakawa over his Young Lions tournament results a few days ago and had already studied that match from all angles. Whatever insecurities that had played out there had been effectively addressed by the insei instructor, and Isumi had taken it all in with grace. That Waya thought it could be that was just so endearingly obtuse.

"Just ate something bad for lunch," Isumi waved off. There was no need to worry the other boy.

Waya nodded, clearly letting the matter drop. "Well, let's meet up next week, okay? I think I'm still weak in _yose_..."

Isumi agreed easily enough. "Shall we invite the others too?"

"Normally I'd say yes, but..." Waya looked out over the rest of the room.

Isumi followed his gaze with grim expectancy: Ikeshita was clustered away in one corner, his own game record clutched in one hand, the other hiding his distraught expression. Honda was currently trying to escape the room but both Uchida and Nanohara had death grips on him, attempting to barter for some of Shirakawa's secrets. ("I'd rather not die, thanks," was Honda's retort to any of their offers.) Nase and Fukui were reviewing the latter's match, an almost vicious expression on the girl's face as they went over mistake after mistake.

Isumi's gaze swept over the room one more time. "Where's Hikaru-kun?" he asked. Everyone had taken to calling the blond-banged boy by his first name nowadays, given that for some inexplicable reason, he didn't always answer to 'Fujiwara'. Or, occasionally, he'd flinch and look about the room in veiled panic.

"I think he went to get a drink," Waya reported. "But he's pretty much safe from the madness right now. No one's quite willing to breach... _that_."

'That' in reference to the very dangerous mood Hikaru had been in for most of the week. Isumi had initially thought someone had died, what with the hollow way Hikaru tended to respond in lately - but whatever thoughts were tormenting the class's strongest insei were kept personal. Any attempts to ask were rebuffed and he was downright brutal in his games - Fukui hadn't been able to make it to yose in their last match.

"It'd be better if we invite him out, too, though," Isumi pointed out reasonably. Dour mood aside, Hikaru was still the strongest among them. His only weakness that Isumi could discern was his lack of experience in formal settings: the formal environment may be enough to throw him off. Isumi could exploit this but it wasn't in his nature to use such tactics, and despite the fact that they were essentially rivals in this career path - Hikaru was still a friend. He wasn't going to throw the boy under a bus just to get a step ahead.

"Maybe I'll bring him to one of Morishita-sensei's study sessions," Waya offered. "I think his teacher has been pretty shitty to him lately, I kind of want to show him how a teacher _should_ be."

Isumi really wanted to ask what that was all about, but unless Hikaru himself told him about it, he knew it was not his right to know. So instead Isumi bit back his questions and resolved to bring both Nase and Fukui out next week for salon-hopping.

* * *

Hikaru's contact with Sai's family had been limited to only Sai himself and Sai's father, the latter being so horrifying to the Meijin that he'd flown into a rage the moment he'd heard his father's voice. The aunt and uncle that had raised him, however, were welcome into Sai's life at any time; his mother's brother and his wife had never asked anything of Sai except that he pursue something that made him happy. This was why Sai had trusted them with such a delicate matter.

"Rizumu-kun," Sai introduced gently. "This is my uncle, Nakikawa Tomohiro-san, and his wife Kosue-san."

Tomohiro bore a strong resemblance to his nephew; his hair was a dark grey, cut short and professional, with strong laugh lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes. His smile was small but gentle, a closer mirror image of Sai's own expression that even Mitsuo couldn't match. He wore black slacks and a loose grey shirt, a denim button-up thrown over it with the sleeves rolled a quarter of the way up.

Kosue was on the smaller side, a petite and plump figure donned in a simple green sundress topped with a tan cardigan, a string of porcelain daisies around her throat. Her black hair was cut above the shoulders, her eyes set a bit wide apart on her face, with long lashes and a pert nose. Her face was lined with age but her smile was genuine and even kinder than her husband's.

In both mannerisms and disposition, it was easy to see their relation to Sai.

Rizumu didn't say anything but gave a little bow in greeting at Hikaru's prodding, eyes sweeping over them and then down to the floor. He didn't look sad, but he did look bored - his usual expression, a defense mechanism that even Ogata could identify now.

"It's so nice to meet you, Yuuki-kun!" Kosue greeted warmly. She didn't even look perturbed at Rizumu's less-than-welcoming acknowledgement, the ease of experience keeping her reactions minimal.

"You as well, Hikaru-kun," Tomohiro added on, eyes on the boy next to his new charge. "We've heard a lot about you from Sai. We were so happy to hear that our family expanded!"

Sai made a strangled noise, blushing furiously. _I'm happy to hear that but the phrasing is so odd!_

"N-Nice to meet you," Hikaru returned mechanically, looking clearly out of his element.

For their part, the couple didn't even seem to notice. "By the way, dear, do you have a preference in how we call you?" Kosue said, directing an encouraging smile at the russet-haired boy. "Do you prefer 'Rizumu' or 'Yuuki'?"

Rizumu blinked, and didn't answer. He genuinely didn't have one - whatever they called him, he wasn't likely to answer. He wasn't sure he had enough self-awareness to form a preference. Hikaru disliked his Gate moniker because it represented experiences he'd abhorred; Rizumu had simply never had another identity to save for himself.

"He doesn't really care," Hikaru answered for him.

Kosue made an agreeable humming noise. "Then I guess we'll just wait and see which you like better," she decided lightly.

There wasn't anything particularly unlikeable about them. They were not overtly-friendly, didn't cram into either boy's personal space, were gracious and kind with their words and actions. They'd brought an expensive brand of tea for Sai and assorted cakes for the boys to try, and they made sure to include both children in their conversation and address them directly if needed. They were genuinely nice people, a fact not lost on either boy.

"The trip isn't long, about a two-hour drive if we avoid the traffic," Tomohiro said. He was seated at the table, along with Sai and his wife; both Rizumu and Hikaru had retreated into Sai's room with the excuse that they wanted to make sure Rizumu had all his things packed.

"Have they traded phone numbers?" Kosue asked.

"Rizumu-kun doesn't have a cellphone," Sai replied. When Rizumu did require a cellphone, he'd usually just borrow someone's - either Hikaru's, Sai's, even Ogata's at one point.

"It wouldn't be wise to cut contact between them completely," Kosue said. "I understand you're worried about their severe interdependence, but at this point, Hikaru is Rizumu's only lifeline to this new life he has. I think a few phonecalls a week wouldn't hurt, and they should even meet up once or twice a month too."

"It would do Hikaru some good as well, if he sees Rizumu improving," Tomohiro added. "Lay some of his fears and doubts to rest."

Sai nodded. "That sounds reasonable," he agreed. "I'll reimburse you for the gas money as well..."

"Oh, none of that!" Kosue waved off. "You never asked us for anything when you stayed with us! I almost cried with happiness when you asked for help with these boys!"

"I _did_ cry," Tomohiro recalled casually.

"That's because you're a soft touch, dear," Kosue dismissed.

* * *

A lone duffel bag lay open on Sai's bed, already full of various outfits and around 15 CDs of different music genres. Hikaru had bought his friend more, including the same one from that enka singer Rizumu had liked from the previous batch and even from breakout artist Utada Hikaru. (He'd even shown her name in _hiragana_ so that Rizumu could see how Hikaru's own name was written.) The russet-haired boy declined in bringing some of the more useless toys Hikaru bought him for the short time he was there, but he did pack the ridiculous palm-sized teddy bear that Kaneko had bought one day, claiming what with its green eyes, pale face fur but dark body fur, it resembled Hikaru.

"You sure you don't want to bring anything else?" Hikaru asked for the tenth time.

Rizumu eyed him askance. "You won't fit in my luggage," he said after a moment.

"Ha ha ha," came Hikaru's monotone reply.

Rizumu zipped the duffel closed. "I hate carrying around a lot, so this is best," he eventually explained.

Hikaru nodded, and they elapsed into silence. Sai's relatives had mentioned they wouldn't leave until about 8 pm in order to avoid most of the rush hour traffic, but that was only 30 minutes away now. In thirty minutes, Rizumu was going to leave. In only thirty minutes, he was going to head to a prefecture further north, a quiet place where he could recover, away from the people and places that had hurt him.

"They seem nice," Hikaru stated. The words felt empty, a shallow distraction from his constricting heart. His eyes were focused on the array of accessories laid out atop Sai's dresser, shining back the dim fluorescence of the bedroom light.

"You can tell they're related," Rizumu observed drolly. "They all have that same idiotic smile."

Hikaru shrugged. Insult aside, it was true.

"...Hikaru."

Hikaru looked up. Two pale hands gripped both sides of his face, tilting it up so that Rizumu could press chapped lips to his own. It was brief, warm contact - nothing but skin on skin, both fingers and lips retreating in a quick manner.

Hikaru didn't move for several long moments. It wasn't that he was reminded, in any strong capacity, of the adults who had done something similar; it was that he was just completely befuddled by the action itself given who had done it.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked frankly. Without being so straight-forward, he knew Rizumu would never explain himself.

Rizumu stared at him. He didn't looked panicked, not even contrite - just a calm, focused expression as he matched Hikaru's eyes. There was nothing guiding his actions but his own will, a stark difference from the boy who Aian had flung into this apartment just two months ago.

"You're important to me," Rizumu said. His voice was even but he spoke slowly, as if to savor the words. "I don't know how to express that, but you're important to me."

He paused. "Oh, but I really don't like kissing. Let's not do that again," Rizumu decided, one finger tracing his lips.

Hikaru blinked. "Oh... Okay," he agreed, if a bit unsurely.

Rizumu stared at him a moment longer. There was no expectancy in his gaze, but rather a hunger; as if he were memorizing him, to keep the image of Hikaru in his mind through sheer force. For one wild second, Hikaru almost thought Rizumu was going to kiss him again.

"I'm going to miss you," Hikaru murmured.

Rizumu cocked his head, the only acknowledgement he gave to show that he'd heard. "I'll call you as soon as I can," he said. _Even if I have to steal one of their phones to do so,_ he vowed internally.

Hikaru nodded dumbly.

"When you greet me," Rizumu said, faltering briefly. But he could do this - he _had_ to do this, because this was the next level, the necessary step he had to take to ensure he could see Hikaru sooner rather than later.

He wanted to go to the beach.

"When you greet me," Rizumu started again. "Call me Yuuki."

Rizumu grabbed his duffel roughly, hoisting it onto his shoulder by the strap and striding out of the room without another word. Hikaru was left standing, green eyes wide, listening to his friend's footsteps fade down the hall until a chorus of adult voices greeted him in cheer.

Rizumu had to leave. Hikaru understood that.

Hikaru crouched down, head bowed, fingers digging into the strands of his black hair. His eyes remained wide but dry, stubbornly dry, his figure still aside from the way fingertips clawed at his scalp. His lips moved, the words quiet and steady..

"It's okay, I understand... I understand... It's okay, I understand... I'm okay..."

* * *

**A/N** : Hikaru, nooo! And Sai, it's _not_ the fucking apron, _are you kidding me._

Oh, so in case you haven't noticed - I think from this point on, the chapters will be a bit shorter than usual. (sighs) Since life is a bit hectic right now, it's easier to churn out 8k-10k chapters at a faster pace rather than 11k chapters at a slower pace. Sorry, everyone!

And holy shit, kaya goban are _expensive_. I mean, I always knew they were expensive, I just wasn't expecting like _$80k expensive!_

_Note 1)_ **Rizumu and Kaneko** : He insults her a lot, but all of the insults are very superficial; this stems from his experiences in the Gate, where looks were everything and insults based on appearance were commonplace. He doesn't really insult people like Tsutsui or Akira because they're just not as aggressive as Kaneko is when confronting him. Despite this, they really do get along quite well - Kaneko won't be done in by insults to her appearance.

_Note 2)_ **"oyakodon"** \- a meal consisting of chicken, egg, and rice, all in one bowl.

_Note 3)_ **Isumi** : I think he'd make such an awesome big brother. He's just so nice. ...this poor guy.

_Note 4)_ **Waya** : Him inadvertently (and wrongly) calling Sai a "shitty teacher" just makes me laugh. (Sorry.)

_Note 5)_ **the Nakikawa's** : They are Sai's relatives from his _mother's_ side. Unlike Sai's mom, though, they are genuinely nice people that love Sai and want to help.

Anyway, thank you for reading! _Please be kind and **drop a review!**_ **:)**

 


	18. Push-Pull Blood Clutch

**A/N** : Apparently 8k-length chapters are my sweet spot because _damn_ the words flow a lot easier!

It definitely helps with all the encouragement from you guys too! ;) Thanks again!

**Disclaimer** : I do not own _Hikaru no Go_.

**Pairings** : Ditto the last.

**Warnings** : "All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair."  _-Mitch Albom_

* * *

**Chapter 16**

_Push-Pull Blood Clutch_

* * *

There was a nauseating sense of familiarity digging into the back of Hikaru's mind, not from the surroundings but from the overbearing feeling of desperation clawing at his guts as he continued moving forward. It was there in place of the hesitation because he could not hesitate, a determination borne from the struggle to survive rather than pure willful stubbornness. If he had been anyone else, would he have dared taken that first step?

_(Under the sweltering heat of June- He met a boy with a crooked smile- "Do you know what kind of job this is?")  
_

But things wouldn't have come to this state if Hikaru had been stronger. What excuses could he make for himself? That he was tired? Weren't Ogata and Sai even more tired than Hikaru? They worked full time jobs, yet still found the time to keep house, prepare the meals, teach him Go, and keep up with the necessities like bills and groceries. All Hikaru had to do was play Go and go to school - but yet he hadn't been able to do that at full capacity like usual, and Rizumu had ended up taking the blame.

It was Hikaru's own fault. Of course Sai would think Rizumu was the problem, and of course he would send him away; if Hikaru couldn't even pay a decent Go game at a tournament of people around his own age just because of Rizumu's effect on him, then Sai would take that away.

Hikaru understood that Sai wasn't being cruel- he was being fair. He'd started as Hikaru's mentor in Go and that was his primary role in Hikaru's life. This wasn't some daytime made-for-TV movie where Hikaru was adopted and lives the rest of his life with a loving family. Sai was loving and he did care, genuinely care - that was more than just about any adult had ever done for Hikaru before - but it was unfair of Hikaru to expect more from where he should have expected nothing.

Hikaru had gotten selfish, plain and simple. He'd gotten selfish and he'd slipped, and Rizumu had to pay the price for that. There was truth to what Sai had said, that Rizumu needed more help than they could provide and that the Nakikawa's could do more for him than Hikaru ever could. But the only reason Rizumu was in such poor shape still was because Hikaru hadn't been able to keep up with helping him, couldn't manage the responsibility of caring for Rizumu when he'd all but promised Sai he could when his friend had first arrived.

Hikaru wanted to beg Sai for forgiveness, for more time with his friend, for just about anything - but that's what a brat does, demand and demand until they're spoiled by it. Hikaru wasn't like that, could never dream of becoming someone so egregious. He had to show Sai that he could handle responsibilities and that he could handle Rizumu at his worst.

He'd decided to start with the damage Rizumu had dealt out while he had been neglectful. The kaya goban Sai owned was ridiculously expensive; kaya boards went anywhere from between 20,000 to 5 million yen depending on the grain type, manufacturer, and design. Hikaru wasn't savvy enough to identify what Sai's board was aside from "kaya" but he was leaning towards the idea that it was of the more pricey brands. The man was certainly rich enough to afford one, and he'd definitely spend his money on Go equipment rather than the usual luxuries.

There was no way Hikaru would be able to get that kind of money in a reasonable timeframe, even if he did dare to go back to being Itsuka. Backsliding like that would only show Sai that he was still being inconsiderate of all of the man's efforts to help him escape that lifestyle, so that was an option Hikaru avoided. Any other criminal methods were also off the table, which left a teenage boy like himself devoid of any other alternative aside from the one he was pursuing now.

It wasn't a pleasant one, by any stretch - but he'd done things out of necessity before.

A long time ago, before Sai, before Itsuka, before Masaki and Rizumu and a dark apartment with no affection - he'd had grandparents. They were his dad's parents, and despite himself, Hikaru still recalled a fair bit of the time he'd spent with them as a child. He remembered the days he'd spend lying about their place, the times his grandmother would playfully chide him for being lazy but still feed him, the occasions when his grandfather attempted to play any number of games with him just as a means of connecting with his grandson.

_(Once upon a time, he'd been loved.)  
_

Of all those games his grandfather played with him, one was the most important despite only being played once: Go. He'd learned lines and rules and seen how to hold the stones before he'd ever learned how coarse a seedy motel's bedsheets were, although they'd been shallow echoes in his memories before Sai had taken the time to re-teach him. He'd been bored by the game back then, refused to learn more than absolutely necessary, and his grandfather had gotten annoyed by his attitude and stopped trying to teach him. Hikaru remembered this because the man had demanded Hikaru help him clean up their half-played game, and Hikaru had slammed one of the goke down onto the go board in protest and had gotten an earful in response.

_"That's kaya wood, boy! It's more expensive than **you**!"  
_

... _well, he was right,_ Hikaru thought in retrospect. Kaya gobans were definitely more expensive than Itsuka had ever hoped to be.

"If I had known there would have been this much walking," Kaneko grumbled from beside him. "I definitely would have boycotted this entire venture."

Hikaru eyed her without turning his head, a sly smile playing at his lips that didn't look as forced as he felt it did. "We've walked farther for certain stores you just _had_ to go to before," he reminded her lightly.

"Yes but the reward for that was worth it," she retorted. "And immediate."

"I already promised you three free meals from whatever places you want," Hikaru pointed out.

Kaneko smirked. "That's the only reason I'm still here. You do realize I don't follow just any friend of mine to places unknown?"

" _Places unknown_ ," Hikaru echoed mockingly. "You make it sound so adventurous. We're literally in a suburban neighborhood."

Knaeko shrugged. "For all I know, we could be meeting a guy to discuss the black market prices of organs. How would I know? By the way, I told Anri-chan I'm going out with you today so don't even think you can harvest any of my body parts."

"What kind of movies have you been watching lately?" Hikaru asked after a moment.

"...I remember something about chainsaws...and it was all in French..." she recalled with a handwave. "The point is I still don't know where we're going or why we're going there."

Hikaru shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. He knew they were drawing closer to his intended destination: he recognized most of these houses, from the forest of electrical wires linking them to the fully-bloomed plum tree stationed near the front gate of one of the homes.

"I just gotta see someone for a bit, maybe play a little Go. We'll try to leave as quickly as we can," he explained.

"You're playing Go against some suburban housewife or something? Is it for your insei class?" she asked.

"Not really," Hikaru replied. "But do me a huge favor, okay? You can't say anything while we're there. Nothing about me or you, our school, insei class - _nothing_. Okay?"

Now Kaneko's curiosity looked piqued, as well as her concern. At her friend's openly-troubled look, she gave a reluctant nod. It all sounded like rather shifty business, but if he was expecting some kind of interrogation with whoever he was meeting here in the suburbia, then at least she knew he wasn't going to be stealing or anything.

They reached the gate of a home that matched most of the others, save for the five potted iris plants in a row behind the wooden fence. Most of the front-facing windows were open, the light summer breeze blowing out the curtains and making the inside barely discernible, even from their closing distance. The nameplate hanging just next to the gate declared in bold font the name 'Shindou'.

Kaneko's eyes latched on to the nameplate as Hikaru pushed open the gate. "You're visiting...?"

She lost the nerve to finish her question. From what she'd gleaned from prolonged contact with Hikaru and his little Go group, Hikaru had been taken away from his biological family and adopted by some important Go professional. She didn't know much about the boy from before the adoption, and wasn't quite sure she was ready to see the reason as to why he was just so unapproachable when they'd first started school.

"My grandparents live here," Hikaru explained, voice quiet as to not carry in the wind. "And if I get what I want from them, I need your help to carry it."

This was all she got before they stepped up to the front door. Like all the homes she'd ever visited before, this one was also outfitted with an intercom system; Hikaru didn't even hesitate before pressing the call button. Kaneko wondered if she was the only one feeling the tension as they waited for the other side to pick up since Hikaru didn't so much as fidget.

" _Hello_ ," came a woman's voice. She sounded old but not ancient, more like one of the spry grandmothers Kaneko would sometimes see practicing tai chi in the park on her morning walk to school. " _Who is it?_ "

_I guess they weren't expecting us,_ Kaneko mused. It wasn't a leap to make; if Hikaru's biological parents had lost custody of him and he didn't end up in his grandparents' care, then of course he'd end up with some random Go player with little to no contact to his blood relatives.

For a moment, she thought Hikaru wasn't going to answer. Then he pressed the button once more, leaning a bit closer so that his voice could be clearly heard.

"It's me," he stated. His voice lacked any emotion, another telling sign to the girl. "It's Hikaru."

For several long seconds, there wasn't any reply. _Just how bad is their relationship?_ Kaneko wondered in a quiet sort of horror. _That they don't even want to see him?_

This was before she heard the dull thudding sound of quick footsteps gaining ground, and just a moment later the door was slammed open with such force that it nearly rebounded into the figure in the doorway. Her short hair, curled in such a way to hide its thinness, was a bit windswept from her hasty dash and her wide eyes were reminiscent of the shape of Hikaru's own but not with the same color. She was dressed in modest houseclothes with a checkered apron pulled over it, looking as if she'd been in the middle of cooking.

"H-Hikaru?" she breathed out shakily, eyes solely focused on the boy on her doorstep. Kaneko couldn't see her friend's expression from her position a couple steps behind him, but if his voice was any indication, it was nothing to be excited over.

"Yeah," he replied. He didn't say anything more but the woman had already moved forward to embrace him, letting out what sounded like a sob in the process. Kaneko was more surprised that Hikaru let her hug him, his back and shoulders otherwise unmoving as he waited it out.

"Oh, look at you! You're so big now!" she crowed out, tears choking some of her words but the smile on her face wide. She looked plainly ecstatic to see him, and only seemed to let go because Hikaru was obviously uncomfortable with the physical contact. She allowed them inside and they stepped into the entrance, pulling off their shoes as the older woman brought out some guest slippers. "And so handsome! Oh, Masao will be so happy to see you-"

"Grandmother," Hikaru interrupted her calmly. It was a wonder he could sound so polite and utterly frightening in the same breath. "Is grandfather home? I came to see him about something."

Shindou Yayoi seemed to stumble over herself a bit, some of her previous joy receding at the clearly dour tone the boy was using. "O-Of course, dear. Here, hold on - _Heihachi!_ Heihachi, get down here!"

There was a loud thump from somewhere else in the house as another door was slammed open, followed by a gruff reply discernible from the second floor. Hikaru didn't say anything as they waited, although his grandmother was looking him up and down as if to catalog the differences between the past and present. Kaneko wanted to know what she was seeing because the Hikaru from just a year ago was already vastly different from the Hikaru now.

"You've grown taller," the woman settled on, her smile endeared but there was something hiding under the surface of her kind words. "A bit thin, though... Is Mitsuko-san not feeding you enough?"

_I thought he'd put on weight_ , Kaneko observed. The past Hikaru had been waif-like; not to the extent of Rizumu, but definitely enough that Kaneko had thought a well-timed gust of wind would have knocked him over. Nowadays he just looked healthy, more likely to play soccer outside than blow away in the wind.

Hikaru was saved from answering by Heihachi finally joining them. The older man looked disgruntled at being hollered at by his otherwise even-tempered wife, but was stopped from commenting the moment his eyes landed on the blond-banged boy.

"Hikaru's come to see you, dear," Yayoi jumped in to explain in the tense silence. It was a wonder she was even brave enough to talk because Kaneko was sure she felt the room temperature drop a couple of degrees.

Heihachi looked clearly blindsided. "H-Hikaru?" he echoed. The sheer shock evaporated with every step the man took closer, and soon enough a wide grin had stretched his thin lips as he rocketed forward to hug the boy. "Hikaru!"

"Look at you! Growing up into quite the gangly thing, aren't you?" he laughed good-naturedly, one arm wrapped around the boy's shoulders in a loose embrace as he used the other to thump him heartily on the back. "It's been how many years since we've last seen you? To think Mitsuko never dropped you off for a visit! Did she finally get some sense knocked into her?"

Kaneko made a choking noise, and both grandparents finally realized that they had a second guest. "Oh my, I'm sorry for ignoring you!" Yayoi fretted, ushering the chubby girl further in. Heihachi had finally released Hikaru and Kaneko took the initiative to stand by her friend, chancing a glance at his face. Unsurprisingly, she found it devoid of any prevalent emotion, aside from something touching a little too closely to troubled.

"Is this your girlfriend, Hikaru?" Heihachi asked.

"Just a friend," Kaneko and Hikaru corrected at the same time. Kaneko was glad she was the only one present to hear such a thing; Rizumu would have surely laughed and Akira would balk at the idea that she was somehow closer to the blond-banged boy than him.

"We're not here for long," Hikaru started. He sounded almost business-like, the tone matching the way he used to talk in class before his last name had changed. Kaneko really didn't like it - _any_ of it. Every single move Hikaru made and the way he spoke was making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She could see why the boy had neglected to ask Tsutsui or Akira along; the former would have stopped him and the latter would have interfered.

"I've started learning Go," Hikaru continued. His voice had softened, almost hypnotic in its lull. "It reminded me of grandfather - you used to play in the amateur tournaments, didn't you? I thought it'd be nice to play a game."

"You started learning go?" Heihachi repeated, disbelief bleeding into an otherwise happy expression.

_("Go?" Amekura echoed, dark eyes wide in pure surprise.)  
_

Hikaru smiled, small and innocent. There was an unassuming air about him as he nodded, giving a short, self-deprecating laugh to play along. The words came easier to him than he thought they would, the memories of what it had felt like to have grandparents weakening in the face of his resolve to conquer.

"I don't really seem the type, do I?" he agreed, pulling on his blond bangs playfully as if to give evidence. "But I learned anyway. Won't you play a game with me?"

His grandfather agreed boisterously. His grandmother looked like she wanted to spend more quality time talking rather than playing games, but she gave in with a resigned sigh and shake of the head. Heihachi lead Hikaru and Kaneko further into the house; the girl glanced about, eyes catching on a few pictures scattered here and there. Some of them were of the older couple, far younger in some and at their present age in others. Many were of who Kaneko suspected were other family members: predominantly a handsome man she presumed was their son, along with pictures of a lady with a gentle smile, a teenage boy who looked like he could give Kishimoto's regal appearance a run for his money, and a toddler missing one front tooth whose smiled reminded her of Hikaru's more unrestrained expressions. Curiously (or perhaps not), she didn't find any of Hikaru on display.

"Oh, why don't I go prepare some snacks too?" Yayoi fussed, heading back to the kitchen with a skip in her step. She was murmuring to herself as she went, only loud enough for Kaneko to catch the beginning of her musings: _"I should tell Masao..."_

Heihachi had lead them to a tatami room looking out into the backyard, simply furnished with a goban in the center and matching red floor pillows on either side, a small table next to it likely for holding teacups. A chest-high wooden shelving unit was at one side of the room, filled with an assortment of Go books and kifu collections, and the lone alcove held a small assortment of pottery meant for decoration.

"...did you always have a room like this?" Hikaru hazarded after taking a moment to look around.

Heihachi puffed up a bit in pride. "We have an insei in the family!" he announced with a beaming smile.

Hikaru noticeably faltered, green eyes blown wide open. He took an involuntary step back, taken off-guard and looking ready to flee. Kaneko pulled out her cellphone, scrolling through her address book almost frantically.

"Tomoko-san's son is in the insei program," Heihachi recalled, having not seen Hikaru's otherwise adverse reactions to his prior statement. "He's one of the strongest in his class now - he's sure to pass the Pro Exams this year! You can ask him for a few pointers while you're still learning!"

Hikaru didn't say anything, trying to regain control of his thundering heartbeat. Honestly, he should have known better - of course Shindou Heihachi wouldn't know anything about him being an insei himself. He hadn't talked to his grandparents since his parents' divorce; as far as they were concerned, he had been his mother's responsibility. What did they care?

"Tomoko-san?" Hikaru echoed in confusion. His father had been an only child. Unless he'd just forgotten about any long-lost relatives, the family line ended with him.

Heihachi came back to himself a bit, losing some of his good cheer. "Ah - well, you see, your father remarried... Tomoko-san is a lovely woman, had a smart boy just a couple years older than you before she met Masao."

_So Dad got remarried_ , Hikaru filed away internally. His chest burned but it was hard to tell if it was from sadness or rage. It spurred him on a little more in this mission, made him acutely aware that the other side of his family had been enjoying themselves quite thoroughly without him. His father had even properly replaced him with a new family, and apparently a successful one - Hikaru couldn't blame him for that. He'd take a "lovely woman and a smart boy" over himself and his mother any day, if he had been his father.

"We can talk about that later!" Heihachi waved off abruptly, eager to shake off the tension. He motioned Hikaru to the other side of the goban, taking his own seat with anticipation. "How long have you been playing for? What would you say your rank is?"

_Rank_ , Hikaru identified. It was a common question in the Go parlor. Of course, no one bothered to ask him that, even at the beginning - Sai had been a wonderful deterrent from the start and his fellow insei learned his strength through playing him, not his words. Considering he was likely stronger than this Tomoko-san's son, Hikaru internally debated on what to say.

_(The truth had never been an option before.)_

"I've been playing for about 10 months now," the familiar words fell from his lips as he took the open seat across from the older man. "My rank... I think it keeps changing." _I keep getting stronger._

Kaneko didn't add anything, taking a seat nearby but not too intrusively close. She was still fiddling with her phone, her message long-sent and waiting for a reply.

"Maybe put down two stones?" Heihachi offered genially. "I keep my skills sharp and practice quite a bit with Shinichiro-kun."

It would make things easier for Hikaru if he did accept the handicap. He'd easily win with a handicap like that, no matter how strong his grandfather seemed to believe he was. He could do it, too, because if his grandfather was stupid enough to get exploited by him - wasn't that just his own fault?

He could, but he won't. He didn't want to defile Go like that. Go was fair, and on the board, they were equals.

Hikaru wouldn't use the skills Sai taught him in such a horrendous way.

"Even is fine," he refuted. "I always play with no handicap."

Heihachi agreed after a lengthy rumination, and stopped grumbling about it once Hikaru started nigiri without prompting. Heihachi was awarded with the black stones, grinning as his eyes went from his goke to Hikaru, clearly excited for the game to begin.

Kaneko abjectly pitied him.

For several minutes, there was nothing but the familiar _pa-chi_ sound of the stones hitting the board. Kaneko had her eyes on both competitors, occasionally glancing down at the game just to see how Hikaru fought on the board. She wondered if his grandfather found it at all odd to see the blond-banged boy change so seamlessly from the awkward teen he'd found in his hall to this clear-headed opponent, wondered if he could identify that look in Hikaru's eyes that promised dominance rather than resignation.

Kaneko didn't play against Hikaru very often. The boy was such a popular opponent at the Heart of Stone that chances were slim, and since he usually brought Rizumu along she spent more time bantering with him rather than playing. The few times she had managed to sit across from him at a goban, she'd always lost despite her 5-stone handicap. Shindou Heihachi may be far stronger than she was, but at least she'd known what kind of monster she was facing.

Heihachi hesitated after placing a stone, a pronounced frown on his face. His fingers twitched a bit as if he intended to reach forward and reclaim it.

Hikaru cocked his head, venom running smooth under honey. "Did you want to take that back?" he asked softly. He still had his hand in the goke to get a stone, his face serene and accepting.

Heihachi laughed awkwardly. "No, no! That's exactly where I wanted to be," he waved off.

Hikaru nodded, placing a white stone to connect to another. Heihachi replied with another wide jump, leaving the corner vulnerable to Hikaru's strengthening position. Kaneko watched them trade hands, saw the frown grow on the older man's face as his eyes flickered from the board to his grandson's face in doubt.

She knew he was wondering if the boy had lied. She'd heard the murmurs at the go salon, the way some of the clients would grumble that it couldn't have been less than a year that Hikaru had started playing. Some people just wouldn't believe that he'd started from nothing; she wouldn't have believed it herself but she had seen the Hikaru a year ago and knew he wouldn't have touched a Go stone unless it was by absolute force.

Hikaru cut through Heihachi's shape in the corner, defended without difficulty in the center, started maneuvering his hands to lay creeping claims on the territory Heihachi was only giving cursory notice.

One of the reasons Kaneko could go to the Heart of Stone so often was because of the games Hikaru played. Some of his opponents folded midgame, cowed by a strength they hadn't expected, while others tried fighting to the bitter end and laughed as the stones of their failed strategies were piled up like a bodycount. Kishimoto's eyes would narrow, the time between his moves growing longer and longer as he failed to keep up with Hikaru's evolution. Tsutsui would play until the end, an encouraging hand that was always ready to listen and give criticism at the end. Kaneko might not be as awed by his skills as the older boys were, but she appreciated them in a way similar to a spectator in Rome's Colosseum; where there lay a bloodbath before her, she could admire with a vile sort of glee.

Heihachi was an attacker; he laid his strategies in gaining territory as aggressively as possible, leaving defense as an afterthought. Hikaru played on this, laying bait here and there as he worked his way for the next corner.

Heihachi was unable to make the kill and Hikaru claimed an eye at the top. Heihachi floundered for a moment, obviously wondering if the corner was worth fighting for anymore. He gave up on it several hands later with a mutter, heading to the last corner. Kaneko didn't know why he bothered- even now she could tell that Hikaru was too far ahead.

_Fight him and die_ , Kaneko recalled off-handedly. Wasn't that the warning all of the patrons were given the moment they laid eyes on Hikaru?

" _Makemashita_ ," Heihachi sighed.

Hikaru's hand stilled in his goke. His eyes were on the board, his concentrated expression slowly slipping from his face like oil in water.

"Ten months, was it?" Heihachi repeated in playful disbelief. He laughed once more, shaking his head. "You really had me believing that, you know! You could give Shinichiro-kun a run for his money!"

Hikaru internally fought the urge to correct the older man: that he hadn't lied, it really had been only 10 months, and that if he talked about his father's step-son one more time Hikaru really was going to crush him in Go. Instead he took a steadying breath, mentally preparing himself for the new game he was just about to put into play.

"I guess you wouldn't even know if it had been ten months or a few years," Hikaru remarked evenly, cutting right through his grandfather's laughter.

Guilt, paranoia, desire, and the need to seek compensation - Hikaru was good at using these to his advantage. He'd learned early on that people were quick to act once triggered, all he had to do was press the right buttons.

Perhaps some part of his grandparents had in fact missed him - but what did it matter? Blood meant nothing to him at this point; between the father who had never fought for him and the mother who willingly tossed him away, Hikaru felt no loyalty to blood. What small part of his grandparents that still held affection for him had never been acted upon regardless, so it didn't matter if he exploited it and used it for his own gain. In the end, wasn't that just fair?

"Hikaru-"

"I want this goban."

Heihachi nearly choked. "Wh-What?"

"I don't have one of my own," Hikaru continued on. He had to treat this like a business deal; this was a transaction, not a reunion. He had no need for love. "And I can't afford a nice one. I play a decent game, don't I? I'm even thinking about going pro."

Heihachi was staring at him, open-mouthed. Hikaru couldn't quite tell if the man was just incredulous at his gall or his statement. Kaneko shifted where she still remained sitting, eyes going from the boy to the goban - so that's what they came here for. Once more, she pulled out her phone and sent a message. She had wondered what would be the endgame.

"It's been _three_ years," Hikaru reminded him bitterly.

Heihachi flinched.

Accusation had lined that one statement, and it was clear who Hikaru thought should carry the blame. Kaneko thought there was something perversely beautiful about a man so openly crumbling from within.

"I-I..." Heihachi tried, and failed. Hikaru didn't say anything, mechanically sorting the stones back into their allotted goke. Every thunk of the stone felt like the knife being slowly hammered into his grandfather's heart.

"But Shinichiro-kun also uses this goban..." Heihachi finally choked out.

_That was the wrong thing to say_ , Kaneko thought.

Hikaru seemed to have stopped breathing. One moment he was absolutely still, unseeing and silent, a picture caught in still-life. The next he bowed his head, a light tremor shaking his shoulders just before he started chuckling aloud.

"That's right, isn't it?" Hikaru said, laughing, a madness seeped into his tone that hollowed the marrow from Kaneko's bones. "You have to keep this goban for him, is that it? Since you replaced me _with him!_ "

He stood abruptly. It was a marvel that his fury colored cold rather than hot; if he had been snarling, he wouldn't have been half as frightening as his current icy expression. "Kaneko, let's go," he bit out. "There's nothing here for me, after all."

Heihachi tried to stand quickly to stop him but ended up toppling backwards, groaning in dulled pain as his troubled hip made contact with the mercifully softened tatami mats. Hikaru didn't even pause to make sure he was okay, moving past with deliberately measured steps.

"W-Wait, Hikaru!" Heihachi begged. "Please, just wait!- the goban! I'm sure we can work something out, I just- No, you can have it, that's fine! Hikaru, don't-"

Hikaru stopped, turning around almost slowly. There was something suspiciously satisfied in that moderate expression, and that was when Kaneko had finally had enough.

She'd known that something was seriously wrong with her classmate from the beginning. She'd known something was seriously wrong with her friend when she finally got around to getting to know him; it was there in the hesitation he held when speaking about his guardian, there in the wariness when faced with strangers, there in the silence when the topic of family was broached. She had perhaps suspected something horrifying concerning his parents, she had tolerated this game he played with the grandparents who apparently hadn't ever felt the need to visit him in the time he refused to talk about - she could wait silently behind him and watch him point out their cruelty and the injustices he's suffered because of them, because that was what friends do.

But she wouldn't allow this.

"Don't," she begged, quietly, hands gripping the sides of his arms as if to physically halt him herself. She could - she felt twice his size at this point, and no matter how scary the look in his eyes was, it was not as scary as what he would become if she let this slide. "Hikaru-kun, _don't_. You're better than this."

"Kaneko," Hikaru murmured. It was dangerous, the way he said her name.

She didn't back down. "I don't know anything about your family. I don't even know if they deserve what you are doing to them. But I don't care. I only care about you, because you're my friend - and _this isn't you_. You aren't the type of person that uses people like this."

"Then you don't know anything about me," Hikaru growled.

Kaneko was trembling, but not from anger or fear - just overwhelming sadness. She didn't know who could have hurt her friend so much that he would even consider this. It was a degradation of his very persona, and she wouldn't just stand aside and watch as he fell.

"This isn't you," she repeated fiercely. "And if I had known you were-"

"Hikaru."

Both junior high students turned, surprised at the interruption- they hadn't heard anyone approaching. The sliding door that opened into the tatami room was wide open, however, and entering was the man Kaneko had only glimpsed in pictures and Hikaru only in distant memories.

Shindou Masao was not at a domineering height, maybe only half-a-head taller than Sai but stockier than the Meijin. He was handsome in a general way, nothing too eye-catching but altogether pleasant. He was dressed in casual clothes, expected because it was Sunday, dark hair tinted grey at the temples and in a bit of disarray. He looked to have been in quite the rush, having only recently caught his breath and staring wide-eyed at the child he hadn't seen in what felt like forever.

The child who was looking, in growing horror, at the teen at his side.

"...Isumi...san...?" Hikaru murmured in shock.

"Hikaru-kun?" Isumi Shinichirou choked out, utterly bewildered.

Hikaru was connecting the dots a step faster than his fellow insei. He faltered back a step, eyes moving from the other boy to the older man still looking at him with wide eyes. Looking at his father now, Hikaru was struck with the overwhelming urge to flee. Suddenly the situation was spinning out of his control and he didn't want to be present to see the resulting carnage.

"We're leaving," he bit out, shaking off Kaneko's hold to grab her hand instead, attempting to pull her out of the room.

"Hikaru!" Masao interjected, striding across the room faster than expected and stepping in front of the exit. Hikaru stopped immediately, gritting his teeth as his only exit was blocked. Isumi had remained in front of the only other door, watching things unfold as he slowly put the pieces together.

Isumi realized he'd never known what his step-dad's son had looked like.

Hikaru wasn't even looking at his father now, green eyes burning holes into the floor behind the man. "Move," he said. It was not a request, his emotional state compromised to such an extent that he could not form one. Something dark had settled in Hikaru's heart the moment his father had entered, only growing more at the sight of Isumi. ( _Isumi was nice, Isumi would make a great son-_ ) Hikaru had to leave _now_ , had to get back to the one adult in this entire world who had actively fought to keep him.

Masao didn't let the caustic tone deter him. "You... Did Mitsuko drop you off here?"

Why did everyone always want to talk about his mother? Hikaru had chosen not to think about the woman because the last time he'd given her any deep thought, he'd nearly broken himself beyond repair. It was hard, coming to grips with the fact that his blood family cared so little for him: his mother had discarded him long ago and his father and his grandparents had replaced him with _fucking Isumi_.

"I don't want to be here," Hikaru said. The words sounded strangled and he felt horror sweeping down his spine when he realized he was once again on the brink of tears. Tears were a sign of weakness and ammunition that Hikaru didn't want to give to the people currently around him. "Get out of the way!"

Masao straightened, expression stern but eyes held out in front of him in a gesture close to pleading. "We haven't-we haven't seen each other in three years. I just want to talk..."

Heihachi had finally rose, rubbing his sore hip and eyes going between Hikaru and Masao, clearly discontent. For his part, Isumi had finally stepped into the room and closer to Heihachi, not wanting to intrude on something clearly out of his depth and still coming to terms with the fact that his friend was his step-brother. From behind him, Yayoi was attempting to peer in from the doorway but turned as the chime of the door buzzer called for attention.

"I don't want to! Move!" Hikaru shouted back.

Masao was unmoving, equal parts concerned and conflicted. "I don't understand what's going on with you, but don't be like this... I just want to talk with you."

Despite the gentleness in his words, his tone was aggravated; he didn't know why his son had turned up so randomly, why he'd showed up at his _grandparents' house_ without notice, and why they were in the Go room of all places. When his mother had called him to tell all about her surprise guest, Masao had even cut his day out with Isumi short to rush back and see the child his former wife had taken as part of the settlement.

Kaneko remained standing by her friend's side. On one hand, she also wanted to leave, but on the other, she wondered if the root of all of Hikaru's family problems was currently standing in this very room. She knew this was a delicate situation. It was obvious Hikaru was only moments away from a full-blown panic attack, so what she saw coming up behind Isumi's shoulders sent a flood of relief down her body even as a curl of fear grew in her gut.

" _Hikaru_."

The name rolled off the newcomer's tongue with such intensity that all the attention in the room was arrested immediately at the carefully-controlled tone. It wasn't dangerous but it was foreboding, and the man now entering the room looked like he was used to owning the ground he tread upon. Violet eyes were cold and serious, framed by long strands of black hair tied back in a loose ponytail in only slight disarray. His dark business suit remained impeccably unruffled and just from the very way he held himself, it was as if the man hadn't rushed here from nearly thirty kilometers away.

"Sai..." Hikaru's tone was completely hollowed out. It wasn't with fear that he regarded the man - his response was more ghost-like than Sai had ever been in that comaverse.

"Fujiwara-sensei?" Heihachi exclaimed, shock nearly sending the poor man back down to the floor. Isumi felt the same - just what was _the Meijin_ doing in this circus show?

Isumi remembered Nase asking Hikaru about any possible relation to the Meijin, something which the boy had denied. He also remembered Hikaru's strangely obsessive studying of Fujiwara Meijin's kifu - wouldn't a student study their mentor's work the most? He remembered how hostile the boy got when some of the gossip about the man turned dirty, remembered that he'd had a close relationship with Ogata ninth-dan, remembered that it had been sworn by some of the insei in the lower classes that Hikaru had been interviewed without a parent present.

His name was _Fujiwara Hikaru_. It could not have been more obvious.

Sai didn't even look at the other occupants of the room, eyes reserved for the blond-banged boy hovering in the space between him and Shindou Masao. The close proximity bothered Sai more than he could say, but right now he had to deal with the damage already wrought by his wayward student. "Hikaru, come here," Sai ordered calmly, the familiarity with which he spoke to Hikaru not lost on anyone in the room. It was obvious that he'd said it in such a way _on purpose_.

The others watched in amazement as the boy shuffled obediently over, head bowed. He was quiet as he moved, afraid to meet the eyes of his guardian and knowing that if Sai had showed up when he'd said he had work today, that meant Hikaru had really done something wrong. Even the fact that the man was somehow here without Hikaru having told him where he was going today was not penetrating the thick blanket of pain his emotional state of mind was in.

Once he'd reached Sai's side, the man clamped a hand on his shoulder and lead him down into a bow. "We apologize for our intrusion and any harm we may have caused," Sai began steadily. "Please let me know of any damages incurred and I will pay you reparation. But for now, we must take our leave."

That sent Masao stuttering into action. "Hold on - who are you? Are you Mitsuko's-?"

Sai's answering look was professional and _glacial_. "Shindou Mitsuko and I share no relationship," he replied cordially.

"Then who-"

"I have no reason to answer you," Sai cut in, a sharpened rapier with deadly intent. "In much the same way that woman is no longer his mother, _you are no longer Hikaru's father._ "

Masao was left gaping at the simply _acidic_ rebuke. Sai turned away, motioning for Kaneko to follow them as he guided Hikaru out.

They stepped out the front door without being impeded, leaving behind a house as quiet as a grave.

* * *

Kawai was in a gratingly chipper mood as he drove, contrasting starkly with the otherwise tense and ominously quiet air of the car's occupants. He'd already dropped off Kaneko at her house - not giving any reason as to why he knew where she lived - and was now well en route to Sai's apartment. If the situation hadn't been so dire, Sai would have been infuriated that Kawai was loitering around close enough to be so useful.

The message from Kaneko earlier had practically sent a spike into his heart. Sai hadn't known a lot about the Shindou family's condition; aside from knowing that Shindou Masao was divorced from his wife and had given up all custody of his son, Sai hadn't cared to know more about the man that had abandoned Hikaru. He had never expected it to become issue, because as far as Hikaru had acted - it was as if his father and that entire side of the family no longer existed.

He had been careless. He had expected that once separated, Sai could treat the Shindou line the same way he treated Mitsuko; as long as it was distant, it could be ignored. He'd never expected Hikaru to actively seek them out, especially for something as unimportant as a goban.

Kawai pulled to a stop in front of their apartment. Hikaru had kept his head bowed, sitting next to his guardian but not making a single sound the entire ride. Sai climbed out first, holding the door open for Hikaru to follow suit and giving Kawai a particularly nasty look when the man bid them a cheery farewell.

Only once Sai made sure the apartment door was closed and locked behind him did he finally turn to address his charge. Hikaru seemed to have expected it, refusing to meet his eyes but remaining stationary by the couch. He had been so busy trying to avoid looking at Sai that his eyes landed on the scratched goban instead.

"Hikaru," Sai began. "I am _very_ disappointed in you."

Hikaru curled in on himself, arms crossed in front of his stomach as if to shield himself from a hit. The action caused Sai to halt in the lecture he had building in his throat; he'd wanted to know what exactly Hikaru had been thinking, waltzing into Shindou Heihachi's home and intending to steal the Go board from right under his nose. It may not be the same way the boy in the dreamverse had physically tried to swipe it, but as Kaneko had described it in her message, playing down one's skill as if to pull wool over another's eyes was similar in its dishonesty. Sai wanted to impress on the boy that that sort of behavior wasn't right no matter the circumstance and that he was worth so much more than that.

Not to mention the sheer _consequences_. Sai didn't know what the Shindou family had expected of the boy they'd left to that hell, didn't even know if they had known they'd thrown him to the pit or if he had slid there without them knowing - and, worryingly, didn't know what they intended to do now that they'd met Hikaru again.

"I know," Hikaru finally said. His voice was as soft as a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Hikaru," Sai tried once more, but stopped again when the boy moved forward. He was reminded, in startling clarity, of the first time he'd met Hikaru in the streets of Shinjuku: a smooth grace to his steps as if every movement of muscle was carefully calculated.

"I'm sorry," Hikaru said again in that same not-whisper. He'd reached Sai now, wrapping his arms around the man's midsection and practically burying his face in the front of Sai's suit, pushing the man back into the front door with the force of his movements. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, _I'm sorry_ -"

Sai couldn't decide if he wanted to hug the child back or push him away, wasn't sure which would help soothe Hikaru more because he recognized what this was - the child was nearing a breakdown. It was how Sai handled such instances that it became so important to maintain a steady, balanced presence with Hikaru; if he acted too emotional, it wouldn't be helpful and may even paint him as an unreliable guardian in the eye's of the boy so dependent on him. If he acted too cold, he ran the very real risk of making Hikaru think he didn't care about him, which couldn't be any more untrue.

Sai slowly wrapped his arms around Hikaru's shoulders, careful to keep them loose enough so that the child did not feel smothered. Hikaru foiled this a bit by tightening his hold, small hands fisting the back of Sai's shirt underneath his suit jacket, face pressed even more firmly into his chest and continuing to senselessly repeat those same two words. It wasn't quite affection Hikaru was seeking here, rather he wanted to feel the actual physical presence of another person under his hands so that he could convince himself he wasn't being left all alone again, a desire to prove to himself that someone was still there for him despite what he'd done.

Sai knew it was important to impress upon Hikaru that what he'd been doing in the Shindou house had been wrong, but he also knew it was better to forestall the emotional firestorm brewing in his charge's mind.

To protect a child without isolating them, to discipline without hurting them in any permanent capacity, to guide them down the right path without forcing them with every step, to help them back up no matter how dirty the fall made them, to nurture them without expecting anything back - these were the measures of a parent. Sai had never felt such an internal conflict before; his gut reaction was to keep Hikaru out of harm's way while chiding him, but the boy clinging to him right now wasn't ready to hear those words.

Sai let his cheek rest against the top of Hikaru's head, quite ready to spend the whole night just cradling the child in his arms if that was what it took to reassure him. The boy smelled of a foreign house; the scent of the Shindou home had saturated his clothes and Sai felt the suddenly very irrational urge to wrap Hikaru up in his own coat.

Love was such a senseless thing.

"I won't abandon you," Sai murmured, breath sending black strands of hair fluttering. "I will not be like them. If I am angry with you, I promise the anger will fade to nothing. If you make me cry, you are forgiven the moment I stop. If you disappoint me, then we will move past it together."

Sai's hold tightened against his better judgment, because in a way, he had to reassure himself: that Hikaru was here, that he wasn't going to run back out into the night or to the Shindou's just because he'd finally caught a glimpse of his estranged father.

"So please," Sai pleaded, tears unashamedly falling from his eyes once more. "Have more faith in yourself. Believe in the fact that you are a good person. _You are good_. And I will spend the rest of my life convincing you of this if I have to, Hikaru."

Teaching a child their immeasurable worth was the duty of a parent, after all.

* * *

Multicolored zinnia flowers stretched as far as he could see, pleasantly contrasting shades that worked in harmony rather than battling for dominance. The sun wasn't as harsh on his skin thank to the hat he wore, but sometimes it would reflect off a sprinkler hidden amongst the flora to blind his eyes. Behind him, he could hear a little girl singing as she skipped ahead of her family, one small hand outstretched as if to skim along atop the delicate petals.

"Yuuki-kun?" Kosue called to get his attention. The woman was taking some small refuge in the shade of a tall, leafy tree, standing a scant step away from her husband who was looking over the map brochure studiously. "Did you want to go further up the path?"

Tomohiro shook the brochure out a bit. "There's also a small mini-golf course on the other side of the plaza," he suggested. "Although walking a bit more would do us some good after that big lunch we had."

Mitani thought about it. He gave everything they asked of him, whether it was a small matter of opinion or the decision on the direction they should head, long consideration. It was not that he was particularly slow, or even that fully paranoid about their motivations - but he just didn't want to rush, to make a hasty choice and feel the regret well up again.

"I want to see more flowers," he finally decided.

"Sounds good," Kosue agreed tamely. She lead the way up the path at a sedate pace, Tomohiro falling into step beside the boy.

"Did you tell Hikaru-kun that you were going to Hitachi Seaside Park today?" he asked.

Mitani shook his head. "I'll mail him the pictures when we get back to the house," he explained.

"That's a good idea!" Tomohiro agreed.

"Ah, dear! Come look! It's the flowers you gave to me when I proposed to you!" Kosue called back with a cheery smile.

Tomohiro grinned, shaking his head. "Now, honey, we both agreed that I proposed first-"

"That's not how I remember it," Kosue huffed playfully.

Tomohiro jogged a bit ahead to argue that point ("Don't you remember, you spilled that squid ink soup everywhere-" "That wasn't soup, that was a _crime!_ ") and Mitani stopped to the side, crouching down to look more closely at the golden zinnia. If he was a romantic, he could say it reminded him of Hikaru.

But he wasn't, so he pulled out one flower by the stem and shoved it into his backpack as a keepsake.

* * *

**A/N** : Mitani is like a breath of air after a whole lot of pain for me...

Note 1) **"(things in parentheses)"** : These lines should seem familiar. (Well, okay, maybe not - since the time between updates is so long that you could have forgotten some of the stuff in previous chapters.) They're basically things that have been said and-or done to Hikaru, and he's recalling it in the present with frankly _frightening_ clarity.

Note 2) **the Shindou family** : I don't think they're bad people, and I hope it came across here. They do genuinely care about and love Hikaru, but sometimes love isn't enough. Some of their inaction can be explained in that it's pretty common for only one parent to have sole custodial rights over the child with little to no visitation rights granted to the other. Masao actually tried to settle peacefully and so gave a lot to Mitsuko in reparation, and custody of Hikaru was included in that. (This will be further explored later so let's just leave it at that for now.)

Note 3) **Isumi** : He's had no exposure to any of Hikaru's childhood pictures and only knew he had a step-brother named _Shindou_ Hikaru. It would have been easy to ask more about Hikaru from Masao (since he does have pictures, at least), but Isumi had simply _never bothered_. Isumi always just expected to learn the answers to his questions and find the solutions to his concerns naturally, to eventually have them just handed to him at some point where it became crucial. He never actively sought it himself - and that will get him into trouble later.

Note 4) **Kaneko and Sai** : Sai knows all of Hikaru's friends' phone numbers - at least, the ones on his cell phone. 

Thanks again for reading, everyone! :) _Please be kind and **drop a review~!**_

 


	19. Upon the Tattered Edging

**A/N** : Thanks again for the reviews, everyone!

**Disclaimer** : I do not own _Hikaru no Go_ or _Spirited Away_.

**Pairings** : Hoo boy!

**Warnings** : Everyone's really cute this chapter but everything still hurts. d(OvO)

* * *

**Chapter 17**

_Upon the Tattered Edging_

* * *

Akira's relationships could all handily be weighed in respect to the other person's dedication to Go. The chances were that the greater their skill and devotion to Go, the stronger of a connection Akira would have to them. From the very beginning, Akira had been raised with the game; between his father and the expectations laid on him by the Go community, it would have been more strange had he not picked it up.

It was for this reason that his mother had always been so worried about him. He'd had a hard time getting along in school; his classmates had never been interested in the "old man's game" and Akira's naturally polite demeanor and prodigal skills had put up a wall between him and his peers in the children's Go community. In a society that valued teamwork and the ability to fit in, Akira stuck out like a sore that others tried very hard to either ignore or ridicule.

Akira had thought he was just incapable of fitting in, of getting along with anyone his own age. His father's students and other respected Go professionals acknowledged him, to some degree, and could treat him with the same level of respect and friendliness offered to others in their profession. Akira had privately thought that he would just have to content himself with those kinds of relationships and, indeed, didn't really see any problems in it aside from the inevitable boredom of it all.

When Fujiwara Sai had broken into the scene, claiming hold of the Meijin title with unquestionable strength, Akira had found someone else to hold in the same high regard he afforded only for people like his father. There was something untouchable about Fujiwara, nigh unreachable in terms of strength and willpower. The man was a dominating force in the Go world yet maintained such a genial countenance outside of the goban. He did not degrade nor gloat - he merely observed, an outsider more aligned with a higher power than with the common man. Akira could idolize him, did so quite blatantly beforehand, and felt no shame because there was something about Fujiwara Sai that was beautifully alien.

In contrast, Hikaru was starkly _humanizing_.

He was not overbearingly strong in Go, he did not hold that same intimidating poise Fujiwara often displayed in official matches; instead Hikaru stumbled, occasionally pushed off-kilter by different opponents and new strategies. But Hikaru grew stronger; unlike Fujiwara, who was more a specter that Akira could only gaze at from afar, Hikaru was always within reach because Akira could see his growth firsthand.

Hikaru was not perfect. He could get angry at the drop of a pin, sulk when called out on his mistakes, be unashamedly petty concerning small matters, and start arguments with nothing but a galling smirk.

Hikaru was painfully, _painfully_ real. Akira could share Go with him - it was obvious from his every development that Hikaru loved Go, desired to excel in it for personal and professional reasons. But it was also obvious that Go was not the only thing in Hikaru's life, was not the main determinant in his growth or relationships with others. It was startlingly different to Akira, because he'd always thought to be that talented in a skill, the person would have to be consumed by it. Hikaru wasn't consumed by Go, he was _driven_ by it - and that was a very different mindset.

Go was important to Hikaru but it wasn't all there was to him. And, most tellingly - Go wasn't all that he saw in _Akira_.

Akira defined his relationships to others in terms of Go. Likewise, others knew to determine their relationship to him based on the game as well. Akira wondered if that was a bit sad. Kishimoto and Hidaka could be counted as friends, in some respects, but it was also true that he'd held them at arm's length away with natural ease. He had just become so accustomed to being treated as an extension of his father that he'd always naturally never gotten too attached to those around him.

Hikaru wasn't satisfied with that arrangement. To him, Akira was more than the son of the Meijin, more than a prodigal talent in the field, more than a skilled Go professional.

He was a _friend_.

_"Mom! Dad! Come on, quit eating! Let's get out of here!" (1)_

They were sitting side by side, a plate of mixed dorayaki between them. Hikaru had a loose grip on his Pocari Sweat, eyes riveted to the television screen as the movie was run on the DVD player Akiko had forced on her son a year ago with strict instructions to _"relax sometimes!"_ It was a godsend now with Hikaru's visit, considering Akira was still trying to hold back from playing the other boy until they have their first official match.

Of course, Hikaru was the one who had brought _Spirited Away_ over to watch together. Akira had never seen it before and never got around to it since Hidaka took annoyingly obvious amusement from his resemblance to the titular character Haku. Akira privately though he and the character were nothing alike, despite Hikaru's recent claim that they "could totally be twins!"

The lights were off to better enjoy the movie, although between the TV and the sunlight lurking just behind the curtains, it was hardly dark. At some point - likely when Akira had left the room briefly to get the drinks and snacks - Hikaru had decided to build something resembling a pillow fort between the bed and television. Akira's bedsheets acted as a canopy above them, his blanket laid out on the floor beneath them with his two pillows as cushions. His desk chair had been pulled forward to act as a wall and hold up the other side of the bedsheet-canopy, leaving the 'entrance flap' facing the door. Akira had, of course, sniped at the blond-banged boy for such a childish thing but was quite easily persuaded to join Hikaru in his fort.

"What would you do, if you were her?"

Akira learned very quickly that Hikaru wasn't the type to silently enjoy movies. He honestly should have expected it, what with such a vitriolic attitude when playing Go, but it was nice to know all the same. Undoubtedly most would find the habit annoying, but Akira hardly watched movies anyway and never really invested enough in watching them to mind the breach in etiquette. Besides, between these fantastical types of storylines and Hikaru, Akira would most definitely choose Hikaru.

"Do you mean, would I trust this boy I just met to feed me food that may or may not turn me into a pig?" Akira tried to clarify. Because the answer was no.

Hikaru snorted, but it was more from amusement rather than jeer. "No, I mean - if your parents turned into pigs, what would you do?"

Akira thought about it. Trying to imagine such a ridiculous circumstance was hard, he'd never been particularly creative, and his mind kept getting stuck on the image of a pig with his father's hairstyle trying to place Go stones. Hikaru was looking at him, though, which meant he expected a sincere answer - or, at least, that's how Akira took it. It simply never occurred to the young Go pro that he could ignore Hikaru's more ridiculous questions.

"I suppose I would try to save them, just like she is trying to do," Akira decided.

Hikaru hummed a bit in consideration. Akira chanced a glance at the other boy but Hikaru had already turned his attention back to the screen. The lights played off his face, shadowing his eyes occasionally but Akira thought it fit Hikaru's mood now.

Ogata had dropped Hikaru off this morning after making sure it was okay with Akira's mother. Akira knew the ninth-dan had to go to the Institute today, and Ogata had even explained that Fujiwara Meijin had 'family business' to attend to well into the evening. Apparently Rizumu had been taken in by the Meijin's relatives and both men were leery of leaving Hikaru alone at home to wallow in his misery.

Akira could understand that, if a bit distantly. It was obvious to him that Hikaru and Rizumu had been especially close, so the separation was likely hitting his friend hard. He wasn't averse to spending time with Hikaru, even if that time wasn't about Go; at least a Studio Ghibli film was distracting.

"I would too, if it was Sai or Seiji-san," Hikaru mused aloud.

Akira tensed subconsciously. He knew Hikaru's living situation was strange; from Fujiwara Meijin's adoption of the boy to the way their senpai skirted around the issue of families, he'd pieced together just enough to see that Hikaru hadn't exactly been raised in a healthy environment.

A large part of Akira just wanted to let this line of conversation die with that. There was no need to pry further; it would only make things awkward, or dredge up uncomfortable things that neither boy were likely ready to handle. Just like before, Akira could prop up the wall between him and others. It was the easiest way to get through this, for both of them.

_"Open your mouth and eat this. If you don't eat food from this world, you'll disappear."_

Akira drank from his own bottle of Pocari Sweat, trying to distract himself. Hikaru remained unperturbed, still watching the movie with an otherwise bored expression on his face. The silence between them was not uncomfortable, but Akira still felt the weight of it as it stretched on.

Didn't Kishimoto say he should become someone stronger?

That type of strength needed to start somewhere.

"What about your parents?" Akira asked. His voice was soft, almost drowned out by the girl on screen screaming. He didn't feel courageous asking it - he felt sick with worry, mind buzzing and fuzzy, alarmed at the idea that he may have just offended the other boy. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to fighting with Hikaru, but there was a difference between banter and- _this_ , whatever this was. Akira definitely didn't feel like he had any right to know what Hikaru thought of his parents, understood that it wasn't any of his business - but at the same time, perhaps saying it aloud would help Hikaru organize and understand his own thoughts regarding his family. Sometimes confirming things aloud was the best way to get along.

Hikaru didn't look away from the screen. For one moment, Akira wondered if he hadn't been heard and knew he wouldn't work up the courage to ask again. In the next, he decided he'd been ignored; it was a hurtful response, but Akira figured he deserved it. The question he'd asked had been even more hurtful, after all.

"No."

Akira stilled.

"I wouldn't save them," Hikaru continued. His voice was even, his words casual despite their cruelty. "I'd leave them to wallow in the mud. I'd hope they drown in it."

Akira didn't know how to reply to that.

Hikaru wasn't expecting a response. Instead he picked up a dorayaki, looking it over with a wry smile that seemed unsuitable for their conversation.

"If only it was so easy," he mused quietly. It would have sounded like a joke if his tone hadn't been so tinged with misery. "Think if I didn't eat this, I'd disappear?"

Before he'd fully thought it through, Akira had grabbed hold of the other boy's wrist. He rationally knew that eating the dorayaki had no effect on anyone's permanence, but just the way Hikaru had phrased such a whimsical thought had forced Akira's hand, lurching them both into a rather surprised pause.

"...it's just a movie, you know," Hikaru finally said, if a bit cautiously. "It won't affect whether or not I disappear from this world."

Akira made sure he matched Hikaru's eyes before he spoke. "If it did," he swore quietly. "I'd make you eat every single dorayaki I could find."

Hikaru went still, blinking rapidly in either shock or fighting back tears. It was hard to tell in the flickering lights of the TV that played off their faces, even if Akira thought the other boy's green eyes looked more vivid than before.

"Of course I'd eat something then," Hikaru said, pulling his arm out of Akira's grip. His awful stillness had receded, his more common mischievous grin now on his face. "If I disappeared, how could I help you learn your real identity as the river?"

Akira eyed him oddly. "What?"

"Nothing, Haku dear," Hikaru waved off glibly.

"We look nothing alike!"

Hikaru ignored him, laughing at his indignant expression. Akira put an end to that by smashing the dorayaki into his friend's mouth, watching in vague satisfaction as Hikaru spluttered a bit and not even minding the crumbs now all over his bedcovers. Hikaru, with the true maturity befitting his station as apprentice to one of the strongest Go players in the world, picked up a dorayaki and returned the favor.

_"If you completely forget your name, you'll never find your way back home..."_

"Ehh? Akira-kun?"

Both boys stopped trying to waste Akiko's tasty "movie snacks" in their impromptu battle, turning at the sound of the voice from the now-open doorway. Hikaru did not recognize the male voice; Akira's father was out checking on his business ventures and his mother was the only one left home with the boys. The familiarity with which he called Akira's name meant it wasn't a stranger to at least one of them though.

"Ashiwara-san?" Akira checked, throwing open the fort flap. The man standing in the doorway looked younger than Ogata, likely closer to Sai in terms of age but of a stouter build. He was dressed in a plain brown suit, a garish orange tie hung loosely around his neck, but he greeted the sight of the young Go professional with a smile.

"You made a pillow fort?" the man asked, excitement noticeably bubbling to the surface. "That's so unlike you! It's cool, though!"

Akira threw a disgruntled look back at Hikaru, but the blond-banged boy only shot him a cheeky smile. _Of course he's unrepentant,_ Akira thought. At least the other boy had returned a bit to his more upbeat mood.

"What are you doing here, Ashiwara-san?" Akira asked, crawling out of (Hikaru's) pillow fort and trying not to think about how undignified he must look. "Father's out, so I don't think there's a study group today."

"Oh, no, I just stopped by to drop off one of the kifu collections I borrowed last time. Sensei wanted it before he left for that trip to China he was going to take," Ashiwara explained cheerfully. "Akiko-san said sensei set aside another collection for me to study and just went to find it. I thought I'd see how you were doing while she's looking for it."

Akira nodded. "That's right, I think it was the collection of the last Chunlan Cup... Ah, I know where it is, let me get it," the boy said. Last he remembered, his father had left it under some spare kifu paper in the study room. It would likely take his mother longer than anticipated to find it.

The boy left the room, heading towards where his father usually gathered his students. Ashiwara would have followed, but between the pillow fort and the child crouched inside of it, his attention was immediately arrested. Everyone in Touya Kouyou's study group knew, however implicitly, that the former Meijin's son didn't have a lot of friends. He wasn't even sure if the boy had ever invited someone over before, so seeing a kid the young pro's age making pillow forts with the otherwise mature Touya Akira was a surprising sight.

Not to mention the kid was flashy. _Blond bangs!_ Ashiwara identified, equal parts ecstatic and curious.

"Are you Akira-kun's friend from school?" Ashiwara asked, moving further into the room.

The boy didn't move from his position in the pillow fort. "...Sure," Hikaru agreed. He didn't know the man but he was obviously a Go player, if the previous conversation was anything to go by. Hikaru had no intention of explaining his connection to Sai to some stranger.

Ashiwara wasn't put off by the cautious tone. "Are you the one who built this pillow fort?" he asked, squatting down to get a better look inside. He knew Akira's room wasn't exactly the most furnished of the lot, so the boy wouldn't have a lot to work with in terms of pillow fort-material.

The boy had done an admirable job with what he had. It was really just a bedsheet thrown over three different objects, although he'd apparently gotten creative and used a tower concocted of schoolbooks and a schoolbag to hold up the sheet corner on the bed. The floor underneath was the bedcovers, a pillow for each boy, and an empty plate pushed closer to the TV.

Ashiwara crawled a bit further in, curious and amused to see the foodstuffs just thrown around on the floor. _("H-Hey...")_ He couldn't believe it - had they been having a foodfight in here? Touya Akira was building pillow forts, watching anime, and having food fights?

Whoever this kid was, he was a miracle worker.

"You did a really good job!" Ashiwara turned to face the child. "What's your na- ...hey, are you okay?"

The boy was looking at him, eyes wide. His breathing was uneven and hurried, as if he were struggling to hold onto the air and growing more obviously distraught by the second. It was hard to tell in the dark, but the boy also seemed to be trembling; he had one hand clutched over the general vicinity of his chest.

_Is he having a heart attack?_ Ashiwara thought in horror. _How?! He's only about twelve!_

"H-Hey..." Ashiwara reached out, not quite sure how to help. His hand loosely gripped the boy's shoulder as if to steady him.

This proved to be the wrong move.

The boy jolted back as if stung, knocking the desk chair back and inadvertently tugging the bedsheet canopy down. With his vision obscured, Ashiwara blindly tried to throw the sheet out of the way and ended up grazing the child's cheek with his wayward fingers.

_"No!"_

For one moment, Ashiwara wildly thought the scream came from the movie. But it was definitely from the boy before him; the child had backed up further, hyper-ventilating, green eyes blown wide as he regarded the man before him.

Ashiwara froze. "H-Hey, you need to c-calm down..." he tried, but the boy didn't say anything. He didn't seem to be hearing anything Ashiwara was saying.

Footsteps could be heard running down the hall, and a second later Akira came storming into the room. His eyes went from the clearly-perplexed Ashiwara to Hikaru's panicked figure. The expression on the young pro's face was filtering into a furious glare at an alarming rate.

" _What did you d_ -" Akira couldn't finish his demand, gently moved aside as Touya Akiko forced her way into the room.

The woman gave the room a cursory look, shrewdly taking in all she could, before her eyes focused on the blond-banged boy. She moved further in, purpose set, long years of experience guiding her movements.

"Akira, take Ashiwara-san to the kitchen. Then fetch me a cool washcloth," she ordered without looking. Her no-nonsense tone was audible, and despite his own reservations, Akira did as his mother instructed and led his father's distressed student out. At the very least, Hikaru knew Akiko, and his mother had had plenty of experience helping people before.

Once both males were gone, Akiko forcibly gentled her expression, reserved in demeanor but not cold. She knew how to handle panic attacks - she'd had to help many children through them before, had to teach kids younger than her son how to manage their fears before they could even begin to manage their lives. Questions came later, after she was sure Hikaru was alright.

_Do not pressure_ , she remembered with clinical awareness, crouching down to meet him on more even ground. _Do not ignore him. Do not tell him to calm down._ Hikaru knew he had to calm down. Talking down to him was insulting and unhelpful.

Right now, she could only encourage him.

"Hikaru-kun, we need to get your breathing back to normal," she explained firmly. "Can you breathe in and out on my count?"

Hikaru was trying to focus on her, she could see it. She was the only distraction in this room that could hold his attention off of his fear, and he wanted to cling to that distraction like a lifeline. After a long moment in processing her request, he nodded a bit shakily.

"Okay, breathe in - one, two. Breathe out - one, two. In - one, two. Out - one, two," she repeated slowly, eyes keen. Hikaru stuttered at the beginning at first, but gradually, he followed her rhythm; she increased to counts of 4, then counts of 6, until finally he'd regained control of his breathing. His light trembling remained, and his hand seemed permanently attached to gripping the front of his shirt, so Akiko knew they weren't out of the woods quite yet.

This still took care of her more immediate concern about his hyperventilation. She rose on steady knees, curbing the urge to help the boy up. She hadn't asked for permission for such contact and she still wasn't 100 percent certain what had started his panic attack in the first place. Any touch, epxected or not, could cause the panic to flare up again and she wasn't going to risk that.

"Hikaru-kun, have you had a panic attack before?" she asked gently. If he did, perhaps he had found a better way to manage it.

Hikaru rose, much less steady than her, and his gaze seemed attached to the general vicinity of their feet. "I-I don't know," he admitted.

Akiko didn't know if that was a good or bad thing, or even if he was lying, but she didn't have the time right now to think about it. "Okay, then let's do a little exercise. The repetitive motions will help," she explained.

Akiko made sure she had the boy's attention before she raised her arms, keeping them held out straight from shoulder to finger, then slowly lowered them back to hang loosely at her sides. Hikaru followed her example the next time she raised them, and together they repeated these movements for a minute or so.

Akira re-entered his room, holding a damp blue washcloth. Akiko was relieved to see that her son maintained a somber expression - none of that earlier fury on his face. His little errand had likely calmed him somewhat, which had been part of her intention in sending him away. Freaking out while his friend was panicking would only do more harm than good here.

"If you're feeling a little hot around your head or neck, use the towel to cool yourself down," she suggested to the blond-banged boy. He looked rather flushed but not on the brink of fainting anymore, so for now the worst of the episode had passed.

Hikaru nodded, taking the towel from the other boy. Akira remained beside him, glancing Hikaru over to make sure he was okay but otherwise quiet. He trusted his mother to help his friend and was gratified that it hadn't been misplaced.

"I will be right back," Akiko promised. Both boys nodded, Hikaru still a bit shaken, but Akiko appreciated the acquiescence. She left the room with quick steps, heading down the hall and towards the kitchen.

She knew Ashiwara Hiroyuki. The man was sweet and even-tempered, friendly to a fault if a bit childish in some respects; he was not capable of hurting a child. The possibility was there, of course, as no one could ever really expect to know someone else so well - so Akiko kept herself open-minded in terms of the reasons for Fujiwara Hikaru's panic attack.

She had her suspicions. They had nothing to do with Ashiwara, rather for more general possibilities. From her first meeting with the boy and Rizumu, to this episode now - the blocks of evidence were piling up and forming a coherent structure. Professionalism kept the picture from crystallizing, because assumptions were the death of any form of understanding and Akiko would not risk trapping herself in one.

When she arrived at the kitchen, Ashiwara was idling in the middle, tear-laden eyes etched on a distraught face. "I don't know what I did!" he said as soon as he saw her. " _I'm so sorry_ , I- I-"

He cut himself off, moving a step back as if he wanted to run. Akiko's stoic expression gentled once more; she did not need two people on the verge of a breakdown in her home. She needed the man to answer questions willingly, not go on the defensive.

"Ashiwara-san, calm down," she advised kindly. "He's feeling much better. Can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know!" Ashiwara repeated, hands wringing together. His eyes were darting around the kitchen, but at Akiko's wince, he lowered the volume of his voice. "I just went to say hi to Akira, and when he went to find the book sensei got for me, I just wanted to check out the pillow fort they'd built and say hi to the other boy. Then he- he just _froze_ , like I'd _scared_ him-"

Akiko held up a hand to cut off his words. Aside from the mention of the pillow fort, she'd more or less expected something along those lines.

"I didn't mean to scare him," Ashiwara mumbled guiltily. "...is he going to be okay?"

"Yes, he just needs a minute to recover," she sighed.

Ashiwara nodded in understanding, fidgeting. Akiko went to retrieve the book her husband had gotten for him. It was better to get the man out of the house for now; this was a sensitive matter for Hikaru and Ashiwara's continuing presence would only stress the boy out.

Akiko spent a few minutes reassuring her husband's student that things were alright and not to think too much on it - _"He's just going through a rough time right now, and he's not too good with strangers yet..."_ \- before politely showing the man out. She returned back to her son's bedroom; both boys were cleaning up the mess left behind.

She let them do it. The thoughtless motions of cleaning would better serve to keep Hikaru calm, so she only took the soiled sheets and towel out to the washer. Once she'd come back to the room, they were seated side-by-side on the edge of Akira's bed, her son surprisingly carrying the weight of their quiet conversation.

"Kishimoto-senpai agreed to the beach trip," she heard Akira saying. His voice was even, almost melodious in the careful speed he spoke in. "Hidaka-senpai will be coming as well. She seemed excited to meet you... I think she will get along very well with Kaneko."

Hikaru huffed out a short laugh. "That's terrifying," he observed.

"We can probably ditch them at the beach," Akira noted. His serious tone seemed to amuse Hikaru even more, if the small smile worming its way on the boy's face any indication.

Akiko just watched them for a moment.

Then she decided.

_Now where did I put her business card...?_ she wondered.

* * *

Masao had known he'd been a terrible father. It was a fact he'd accepted long ago, the first time he'd lied to his then-wife Mitsuko that he had to put in more overtime when really he'd just preferred to go out drinking with some of his old university buddies. He knew it when he'd held a lime green flyer in his hands that detailed the upcoming Parent Day as he told Hikaru he wouldn't be able to go. He knew it when he'd forgotten to buy Hikaru a birthday present because he'd spent the previous night at Tomoko's place.

Masao had been simply terrible, and he'd never once faulted Mitsuko for any part of it. Mitsuko had been a wonderful wife; she managed their budget efficiently, she provided a warm and loving home for her family, and she'd never asked anything of Masao that he had been unable to give her. She had always been a dedicated mother to their son, adored Hikaru and spent plenty of time making sure their boy kept up with his studies and got along with his peers. She had been the picture-perfect Japanese wife.

But Isumi Tomoko was the love of his life. The woman didn't budget even half as well as Mitsuko did, she could only cook simple dishes that lacked any real gusto, and she spent more time trying to keep up with the daily expenses of being a single mother that Shinichiro had been the one to keep up with the housework. Tomoko was kind, though; she smiled gently and her mild-mannered countenance just made Masao fiercer in protecting her.

It was not Mitsuko's fault, she was a lovely woman - but Masao did not love her. His divorce was not Tomoko's fault; Masao was the one who had fallen for her and was the one to initiate their affair. He had decided to take responsibility for the mess of their intertwined lives. Mitsuko had been given reparation: the house, and money, and Hikaru. The latter had been hard to give up, but not as hard as Masao had imagined it should have been; it wasn't quite relief he felt when he'd decided Mitsuko would gain full custody of their son without a fight from him, but even Masao knew he should have felt more hurt at the arrangement. The fact that he didn't only cemented the fact that he was a terrible father to the boy.

He'd first met Tomoko's son, Shinichiro, only after his divorce from Mitsuko. The boy shared many of his mother's traits: gentle and kind, with soft mannerisms and a matching smile. He was so unlike Hikaru - Shinichiro was quiet, never complained or asked for anything, did his chores without being told, and even kept track of grocery sales and trash collection days. He'd tried to make himself as quiet and unnoticeable as he could when Masao was over, even despite Masao's attempts at including him. It wasn't hard to guess why - Tomoko had already explained everything about her past boyfriend, Shinichiro's father in blood only, who'd abandoned her and their son only a few days before the boy's fifth birthday.

Masao knew it was terrible of him, but for just one moment - he had thought with some satisfaction that though he'd never been a good father for Hikaru, he'd at least helped support him in the beginning. He had thought his son wouldn't need that kind of half-baked support after the divorce, and besides, Mitsuko was a hardworking and pretty woman. She could live off the settlement money for a time, pick up a part-time job to keep up with some of the more leisurely expenses, and undoubtedly find another man to share her life with who would treat her better than Masao ever could.

And with that, Masao could work on making himself better. A better caregiver, someone reliable who Tomoko could trust, someone who Shinichiro could look up to and believe in whole-heartedly. When he'd found the positive pregnancy test in the bathroom, Masao made sure Tomoko knew she could count on him - he'd asked for her hand in marriage after he'd kissed her in happiness. He'd broken the news to Shinichirou alongside her, witnessed the boy's first genuine smile at the news, and swore that he would do better this time around.

Hikaru didn't need him, not anymore - not now that he had Mitsuko's undivided attention and whoever she fell in love with as she gained independence from Masao.

Tomoko needed him. Shinichiro needed him. _Mirai_ needed him.

Masao had sworn he would be a good father this time. He'd go to both Shinichiro's and Mirai's Parent Day events, he'd work hard to make sure that Tomoko didn't have to worry about her next meal, he'd spend time with his family so that they knew he would always be around to support them.

Masao had not expected Hikaru to willingly see him. At least, maybe not for several years; he'd always envisioned his son would come find him one day in the distant future, maybe just to reconnect with his blood father even if he was getting along just fine in his life.

Masao had wanted to see Hikaru, of course - but that wasn't part of the agreement struck with Mitsuko. His former wife had never sent him anything about his son in the time they'd spent apart and Masao never once asked her to - this was the way he had decided to handle things. There had always been the risk that Mitsuko, in her bitterness at Masao divorcing her, would turn Hikaru against him with spiteful words that wouldn't necessarily be lies. Masao thought it might even be better then - it was better for Hikaru to hate him and want nothing to do with him, so that it would be easier for him to get attached to the new father figure in his life.

So why had Hikaru looked like that?

He'd looked feral in that tatami room, clearly on the brink of tears and _absolutely terrified_ of Masao. The fear was hidden behind the anger, and Masao recognized it for what it was: his son was scared of him.

Masao wanted to know why.

Now, standing on the steps to an apartment he'd only found after following a paper trail of address change forms and reparation bills, he would finally reunite with his ex-wife for the first time in years.

Mitsuko had kept his family name, a tidbit of information that Masao had felt uneasy learning. He had expected her to change back to her maiden name after his affair came to light - the fact that she didn't meant she either saw it as too troublesome to do or she'd kept it for more worrying reasons.

Checking the Family Registry for the first time in years had yielded shocking results. There was, of course, the new additions to the Shindou line that Masao was only just starting to push through: Tomoko, Mirai, and hopefully Shinichiro at some point. Mitsuko had been marked as divorced but remained attached, which was perhaps the reason it was taking the office so long to add in his new family. Even then, the real shocker had been his biological son.

Hikaru's name had been stricken from the records.

There was no longer a Shindou Hikaru, only a note at the bottom detailing the boy's move to a different family tree - to the _Fujiwara_ records.

Masao's father had recognized the man that had intervened in their family affair. A younger man, at least a decade younger than Masao himself, with dark hair and pale skin and eyes colder than an empty field covered in January frost. Fujiwara Sai, one of the top professional players in Go - he was the prodigal talent in the field and the son of the CEO of Fujiwara Inc., a multibillion dollar company that operated internationally. The man probably had more disposable income at age 12 than Masao would ever have if he worked every single day for the rest of his life.

And Fujiwara Sai had adopted Hikaru.

How exactly did the young, accomplished son of multibillion dollar company get around to _adopting Hikaru?_

This was why he was here today, on another precious day off to see what had happened to his first family. Why was his son adopted into the Fujiwara clan, what had happened to Mitsuko, what had happened to _Hikaru?_

Masao knocked on the door of apartment 5545, edging a bit forward toward the door as a teenage girl shuffled past him and into the next apartment. He would have greeted her but she'd only given him a cursory glance as she quickly moved past, suspicion clear in her eyes before she hurriedly entered her apartment.

The entire building seemed to have that same gray air, as if everyone were simultaneously avoiding interaction with each other. This could have, of course, been Masao's own personal feelings coloring his mood - he certainly wished he wasn't here. He didn't really want to face the poor woman he had betrayed those few years ago but Hikaru's visit last week necessitated it at this point.

The woman who opened the door wasn't the same woman he'd divorced. It was Shindou Mitsuko, of course - but the sight that greeted him was such a far cry from the lovely woman he'd married all those years ago that it took Masao a long moment to recognize her. Her body's proportions were smaller, frailer in a sickly sense, the pallor of her skin blotchy and ill. There were dark bags under her eyes and the edges of her lips were crusty, cheeks lightly sallowed and overall fatigued.

"...Mitsuko?" Masao had to make sure, because he really just couldn't believe that this person was actually the mother of his child.

Mitsuko's eyes widened when she finally realized just who was standing at her doorstep. "Masao?" she managed out, only it was more of a croak with the way the word fumbled dryly from her chapped lips.

She seemed to step aside subconsciously, but Masao took the initiative to enter the apartment. His eyes darted away from her as he passed, latching onto the small confines of her home.

Straight from the entrance was the kitchen, sparsely furnished and filthy. From there, the counter sectioned off the greater interior: one room that must double as both living room and bedroom. The tattered couch was the only piece of furniture present, aside from a small sidetable covered in brittle brown substances and what looked to be cigarette wrappers. The window was firmly shut and the whole room smelled of smoke, harsh in Masao's throat and growing more unpleasant by the second.

_This... What is this?_ Masao couldn't wrap his head around any of what was before him. He knew, objectively, what it was littered about every available surface - he just couldn't believe it. The Mitsuko he had known had never dabbled in drugs of any sort, would have balked at the idea of knowing anyone that did - so why had it turned out like this?

The woman shut the door after him, trailing him in and eventually moving past him as he remained frozen just a scant step into her living room. She didn't offer any greetings or refreshments, barely even looked at him as she moved back over to the sofa.

Masao watched in her disbelief. "Mitsuko... What happened to you?" he choked out.

She glared at him, close to a sneer but couldn't quite manage such a haughty look with her burnt lips. "Why are you here?" she threw back, venomous and confrontational. Whatever love she'd have had left for her former husband was now long gone, likely disappearing far before her affection for Hikaru had waned.

Masao swallowed, an uneasy expression on his face. Piece by piece, the larger picture was coming together: the damage to Mitsuko's health and home was too far along to be a recent thing, and from the dates on the records of the Family Registry, Hikaru had still been in her care just six months ago. Just over half a year ago, his son had been living in this kind of home, with this kind of person...

Masao felt sick, but even more than that - he felt infuriated.

"What did you do to him?" Masao murmured, the words low. His anger had robbed him of volume, a minute shaking in his hands and shoulders. "Mitsuko, _what did you do to our son?"_

Mitsuko recoiled, his anger making her own recede a bit in response. Perhaps some part of her, from the woman who had been his wife and loving mother to Hikaru, recognized that she also carried some of the blame here. Hikaru had been her's, in the end, and she'd failed him horrifically. There was just enough of her pride left to recognize that.

There was also enough left to see that Masao didn't really have the right to point fingers.

"I'm the _same as you_ ," she returned with a sneer, not quite even in tone but she made up for it in the sheer spite of her words. "Just as you did, I passed him off to someone else!"

Masao stormed closer, grabbing her by the arms as if to shake her. His grip was harsh, the glare in his eyes the only physical manifestations of his anger. She threw his hold off, pushing him back with a snarl that caused her chapped lips to crack and bleed.

Masao noticeably tried to reign himself in. He wanted to hit her but knew it was wrong to do so, wanted to shake her and demand the answers he so needed to know, but knew that violence would not help him here. Instead he took a deep breath, forcibly relaxing himself as Mitsuko took a few wary steps away from him.

"Hikaru came to my house," he started with strained calm.

Mitsuko snorted. "So Fujiwara decided he didn't want him after all? It was only a matter of time," she scoffed.

The name startled Masao a bit, even if it really shouldn't have. The image of that young man was burned into his memory now, the way those cold violet eyes had regarded him washing an unpleasant feeling down his spine. It was obvious from that very first moment, even with the words he'd spouted, that Fujiwara Sai _hated_ him.

"No," Masao corrected angrily. "Fujiwara is still very much the guardian of _our child_. But _why_ , Mitsuko? If you couldn't...couldn't handle Hikaru, why didn't you just send him to me?"

At what point had Fujiwara intervened? Just how bad had it gotten, that this virtual stranger won the rights to Hikaru over the child's own father?

Mitsuko's look bordered on bewilderment. "...you never wanted him. You foisted that brat onto me first, so of course he would never go to _you_. Hikaru and I both knew you never wanted him."

The idea was so absurd that Masao almost thought he had heard wrong. For several long moments, he could say nothing in response - not a correction or a denial. His mind was working the idea over, fitting it into this quickly-growing mess that had ended with _Fujiwara_ Hikaru.

Masao had only ever wanted to make up for his own failings.

He had failed his first family, so he'd naturally thought that if he took himself out of it, they could grow better without him. He'd thought, from the very beginning, that _he himself_ had been everything that was wrong with the family he and Mitsuko had built. Like a tumor, he would remove himself from their line so that they could grow strong without him warping their very core. He had never thought he was only one of the steps down into what had been his first family's hell.

He could understand, then, why Fujiwara Sai hated him. He could understand why Hikaru would try to avoid him. Somewhere along the way, Masao had hurt his son just as much as the woman across from him had.

"...how is Fujiwara involved?" he asked. There was no point in refuting her assumptions; as far as the government was concerned, Shindou Mitsuko held no sway over custody anymore.

Mitsuko looked equal parts terrified and frustrated over the mention of the man who had adopted their son. "I don't know," she ground out. "He just came up out of nowhere, demanding that I give him Hikaru. He threatened to kill me if I didn't!"

There was a strange image of dichotomy there in the way Fujiwara Sai was described. According to his father, the man was the youngest Meijin to date with natural grace and poise, who retained his hold on his title with a kind smile and gentle disposition. But this was the same man who had come storming into a stranger's house to retrieve his errant charge, biting cold in both words and expression as he escorted Hikaru out.

On one hand, it was clear that just like Masao now saw - Fujiwara Sai had decided that Mitsuko was unable to provide Hikaru a good home. On the other hand, it was all too easy to imagine that visceral man threatening to kill her should she refuse to give him custody.

But there was also the possibility that Mitsuko was exaggerating it, a way to escape blame for neglecting their son while he had been in her care. This was where Masao was leaning, because at this point, he held little trust in the words of the woman across from him.

Masao wouldn't let it end with this. He had failed Hikaru before by letting him go - he would not do it a second time.

Standing outside the apartment building, Kawai finished his cigarette as he listened through an earpiece to Shindou Masao leaving his ex-wife's apartment.

_Good thing I remembered to line the trunk in plastic again_ , Kawai mused. He watched with narrowed eyes as Masao stepped out of the building and walked back in the direction of the bus stop. Only once he was sure the man wouldn't look back did Kawai begin moving, entering the apartment building with the faint smell of menthols trailing him.

_No more loose ends_ , Kawai decided.

* * *

Department store shopping was calming to Ogata; he could forget the stresses in his life and just focus on getting what he needed for the best prices. It was usually quiet - unless there was a sale going on, then it was a battle to the death. Thankfully for Sai, who was accompanying him, it was just another quiet afternoon. They were lucky to both be off on the same day so that they could go shopping before the housewife-rush, even if there were still a fair amount of people present.

Shopping with Sai was a bit of a novel experience. Although he'd been out plenty of times with the Meijin, that was only to restaurants and bars in the after-hours. Kitchenware shopping was a decidedly domestic adventure.

Ogata picked up a tabletop burner with a victorious look. "Finally, we can make sukiyaki," he stated with triumph. "Let's get beef on the way back - the brat will be pleased."

Sai agreed, not as cheerful as he usually was. This wasn't too surprising to the ninth-dan; ever since Hikaru's eventful visit to the Touya household earlier in the week, Sai had been ruminating over Touya Akiko's suggestion.

The woman knew what she was talking about when she'd taken both men aside to explain the situation before they could collect the boy. (Ogata had silently sworn to give Ashiwara a smack on the back of the head during the next study session, even if it wasn't really all his fault.) Akiko's solemn levity during her explanation and how she had dealt with the small crisis was perhaps the only thing that had stopped Sai from running to his charge's side the moment he was told.

They both knew why Hikaru would felt so threatened by the circumstance: Ashiwara was an older man, after all, and being left alone in a bedroom with him... It wasn't hard to see where Hikaru could misconstrue Ashiwara's intentions. Even though Ashiwara's intentions had been benign, even if Hikaru objectively understood that - the boy had been conditioned long enough that his automatic response to the situation would now be panic. Neither Ashiwara nor Hikaru were at fault for that.

Akiko had been an exceptional children's psychiatrist, regarded highly in her field and her words always carried heavy respect in the community. But she was retired, and as Akiko herself had explained to the two men - she was not an impartial party that could listen to Hikaru without feeling some urge to wreak havoc herself. The boy was her son's friend, her own friend's adopted son, and would likely be a common fixture in her life for the foreseeable future.

She'd help when she could, of course. She'd advise if asked or when she felt her words were needed, would always be a helping hand and willing shoulder to lean on should they require it. She was a family friend, an important role in and of itself - but she could not be Hikaru's psychiatrist. She lacked the objective perspective that role required.

But Hikaru _needed_ one. Sai could spend every waking moment trying to reassure the boy, Ogata could support every endeavor, his friends could carry their own weight - but Hikaru needed more than just devotion.

"He needs help understanding himself," Akiko had said. "I don't know the circumstance of his adoption, but I can tell it's one of his stressors. There's no shame in struggling with your emotions, but Hikaru-kun needs someone to listen to him and validate what he is feeling about all of the changes in his life. And no matter how much you love him, you're still a major part of that changing process. He needs someone that isn't, someone that can look at his situation from an outside perspective."

Sai could agree, but even he wasn't entirely sure he could put so much faith in a children's psychiatrist. No matter how much he respected Akiko, there was still a stigma attached to the issue of mental health: "only crazy people need help from a shrink."

Hikaru wasn't crazy. The boy had just simply been through so much that he was having a tough time acclimating to his new environment; likely his visit to the Shindou household had only hurt him further. Hikaru would likely think being taken to a psychiatrist was another form of punishing him for acting out.

Ogata scowled. No matter how much Sai had tried to assure the boy he wasn't being punished for having a panic attack, Hikaru had spent the entire car ride back to the apartment attached to the man's side, alternating between apologizing and trying to prove to both men that he "wasn't scared." However, Hikaru had been unable to explain why he had panicked in the first place, and Ogata had spent the entire evening trying to goad the boy into an argument just to wipe that sullen look off his face.

_When in doubt, cook something delicious,_ his mother had once advised him. Sai lacked the necessary equipment for sukiyaki, so Ogata had opted to go shopping and the Meijin had popped up to join him on the venture. Sai's excuse was that, technically, the burner was for _his_ apartment so he should be footing the bills, and he needed some other things at the department store anyway.

Honestly, shopping with Sai was- _nice_. Even if the long-haired man wasn't as cheerful as he usually was, he still remained in a high enough spirit to get enthusiastic over cute bento boxes and multicolored baking goods. Ogata had had to drag him out of the plateware section when Sai had spent too long considering the Doraemon platesets.

_Still, this isn't too bad,_ Ogata thought with a large amount of bias. Sai was currently pulling on a checkered apron and looking himself over in the mirror. If it wasn't for the fact that Ogata knew the man was such a terrible cook, he would like this stop in the apron section a lot more.

Sai was frowning at his reflection, looking rather displeased. Ogata didn't see why - the apron looked good on the man. The checkered blue really brought out his eyes, and- _No, stop, stop!_ Ogata cut off his thoughts. _At this rate I will start dedicating fucking poetry to his hair!_

"Do we really need another apron?" Ogata asked. Anything to distract himself from the sickeningly fluffy turn of his thoughts.

Sai started, turning around and giving Ogata a deer-in-headlights look. Before the bespectacled man could question the strange reaction, Sai was hurriedly tugging off the apron.

"Well, the one you're using now is starting to look a bit ragged," Sai said. Ogata was going to disagree - he'd just washed it the other night, it wasn't looking ratty! - but then the Meijin held out the apron for him to try.

Ogata took it with a roll of the eyes. If this was just another weird whim of his friend's, then it would just go quicker if he played along. He pulled it on, tying it properly and moving forward to get a good look at himself in the mirror.

It looked like him...wearing an apron. Mission accomplished.

Ogata turned around to face Sai. _I wonder if he also needs a model to go clothes shopping,_ Ogata thought wryly.

Sai was staring at him. It was less deer-in-the-headlights and more like he was going through something of a catharsis.

Ogata stared back at him. _Does he really like aprons or something?_

"Ah, it- it looks good," Sai stuttered out. His skin looked a bit pinkish and his eyes were drilling rather intensely into the apron. Ogata wondered if he should be flattered but decided it was stupid to consider Sai's compliment of an apron as a compliment to himself.

" _Ri-ight_ ," Ogata agreed slowly. He pulled off the apron, folding it back up and placing it in the shopping basket. He was just about to leave it at that, but then Sai pulled out _another_ apron from the shelves. This one was pineapple-themed, bright yellow and green with a matching hood.

Ogata stared at it. _Why does an apron need a hood?_

"Seiji," Sai started delicately. He was blushing lightly now, not quite making eye contact as he held out the apron to the ninth-dan. "D-Do you mind...?"

It was such a surreal thing, Ogata actually went along with it. Pulling it on again with practiced ease, he only glanced himself over in the mirror this time before turning back to look at Sai.

"It's cute!" Sai said, smiling. He looked a bit more comfortable stating his opinion now. Ogata took it to mean that some of the usual good cheer was returning to his friend, so he wasn't that offended from the otherwise overly-cute apron he was sporting.

By the time he'd pulled it off and re-folded it, Sai was holding out another apron. This one was panda-themed, a cartoon panda's face making up the majority of it, the word 'panda' splashed across a sky blue background. After that was a bunny-themed one, then a cupcake-themed one, followed by a black polka-dotted one with red lining.

Ogata drew the line at the Hello Kitty-pink one with frills. "Sai, _why?"_

Sai's beautiful, woebegone eye met his own almost petulantly. "You look good in aprons," the Meijin said weakly in defense.

Whatever response Ogata had for that (he didn't have one) was cut off by a familiar man approaching them with a look that bordered on open bewilderment.

"Good afternoon!" Shirakawa greeted, managing to pull on a chipper smile before Sai turned to face him. "Nice to see you again, Fujiwara-sensei."

Sai nodded in greeting, smiling despite still holding out the offending apron to Ogata. "Shirakawa-sensei, this is a pleasant surprise!"

Ogata rather thought it was an unpleasant surprise, especially with the way Shirakawa's kept getting caught on the proffered apron. He wisely kept this opinion to himself.

"I was just shopping for a new cookingware set," Shirakawa stated with casual gusto. He always looked so damn amiable outside of private conversations and this irked Ogata to no end. The bespectacled man could practically see the mad internal cackling going on behind those dark eyes.

"Ah, we're here to buy the equipment to make sukiyaki for dinner tonight," Sai chatted brightly. "We decided buying more aprons wouldn't be amiss either."

" _You_ decided you needed a whole new apron wardrobe," Ogata corrected caustically.

Sai turned back to the ninth-dan, practically pushing the frilly apron into his hands. " _Please_ , Seiji? This is the last one, I promise," Sai said, practically begging.

Behind him, Shirakawa's expression was twitching; he didn't know whether he should find this entire scenario funny or strange. Ogata stubbornly ignored the insei instructor, giving into Sai's demands - he could never say no to that stupidly pretty face - and pulled on the apron as requested. He didn't even dare to look himself over in the mirror, already knowing he looked utterly ridiculous; Shirakawa's subsequently strangled expression only cemented this fact.

Ogata privately decided that he'd fallen in love with someone completely deranged, because Sai looked completely delighted. "It's the best one yet," the Meijin said sincerely.

Ogata fought the urge to tear it off; he hadn't blushed this much in years. The ninth-dan thought that this was probably what he deserved for falling in love with such a massive idiot.

Shirakawa was giving the back of Sai's head an incredulous look. Between freakishly-obsessive Touya Akira and utterly-weird-tastes Fujiwara Sai, he was probably the closest person to normal that Ogata knew. Shirakawa would have pitied Ogata more, but it was blatantly obvious that the Meijin was eyeing his friend in a manner that wasn't even close to platonic.

_Shopping together and trying on aprons,_ Shirakawa thought with some measure of bemusement. _They're **disgustingly** domestic._

"Well, you two look busy," Shirakawa noted aloud. They didn't, but now he just really didn't want to be caught up in the middle of Ogata's lovey-dovey date. "I'm heading out now. Tell Hikaru-kun I said hi."

Sai bid him a kind and polite goodbye, even if he still looked distracted by Ogata's frilly apron-wearing body. Ogata threw him a nasty sneer but the intimidation factor was brought down considerably due to the stark blush in his cheeks.

"I really think the pink suits you," Shirakawa threw back as his parting words.

Best to be petty so that Ogata didn't get too comfortable, even if happiness was a good look on the man.

* * *

**A/N** : Sai. Sai, please.

(Although I wish I could draw, because the mental image I have of Ogata in a frilly apron is one I wish I could share.)

(Also, in case you guys were wondering, I now do have a picture folder dedicated to apron designs just for Ogata.)

_(1)-(3)_ : Lines from Studio Ghibli's _Spirited Away_

_Note 1_ ) **Shindou Masao** : In my mind - he's a pretty awful figure, but in the grand scale of characters in this fic, he's not too bad. Still, he doesn't quite wholly understand the part he played in hurting Hikaru and is pretty much a total failure of a parent to the boy...but he is also still trying, to some degree, to be a good person.

_Note 2_ ) **the fate of Shindou Mitsuko** : Despite what Masao thinks, Mitsuko still does hold some sway over custodial rights over Hikaru since she is his biological mother and also the last to have full custody of him before the adoption. Sai, of course, could never kill anyone - Kawai and Fujiwara Mitsuo are a very different story.

_Note 3_ ) **Japan and Psychiatry** : There is a large stigma in Japan (and pretty much everywhere) that someone who is seeking psychiatric help is "crazy" and very possibly dangerous. Even Sai himself is not immune to the influence of that stigma, and many people regard someone seeing a psychiatrist as a sign that they could never be a normal, functioning part of society. There will be quite a bit of struggle overcoming such notions, even for Sai.

Anyway, _please be kind and **drop a review**!_ :)

 


	20. Reverse Applique

**A/N** : Thank you for the reviews! This feels almost like I'm on a regular schedule update now, haha~

**Disclaimer** : I do not own _Hikaru no Go_.

**Pairings** : Ditto previous chapters.

**Warnings** : So much misdirected anger everywhere.

* * *

**Chapter 18**

_Reverse Applique  
_

* * *

Conversations were a lot more quiet in Isumi's home these days. His mother and stepfather were subdued in both speech and movements, would converse at length late at night when they thought their sons were asleep. His stepfather in particular was absent frequently, his usual mild-mannered temperament more agitated as he kept cycling through documents and finances.

Isumi knew why, of course. He wasn't an idiot, not even just an ignorant bystander anymore - he was fully involved, because when it came to this household, he was the one who knew Hikaru best. His friend and fellow insei, the strongest of their class and his stepfather's biological son. The latter fact was a shock to Isumi but the former was a shock to the rest of his family.

Isumi had tried to report back his standing in the insei class and the friends he'd made in the process. His mother had always been so concerned about him since he was little; she'd felt guilty for leaving him alone so long when she had to work multiple jobs after his own biological father left them, when she couldn't be around for her own child to rely on because she had no one to rely on in turn. Mature little Shinichirou knew why his mother had to work so much and tried not to be sad about it, even if the other mothers in their neighborhood whispered as he walked by, even if he didn't have the time to play with the other kids from school because he had to get home to do chores, even if he couldn't afford the same nice toys all his classmates had.

So Shinichirou stayed home and stayed quiet, and did as much as he could with no complaint because his mother was all he had left in the world now. If he was sad, he curled up as small as he could and waited for the urge to cry to end (because his father had hated the sound of his crying and what if his mom did too?) and if he was happy, he smiled but didn't laugh because (according to his father) laughing aloud sounded obnoxious. For him, it was better to go unnoticed because he was sure the more he was regarded, the less he would be liked. It was better for him to be present but not eye-catching, to stand smiling and act as the voice of reason so that he could be relied upon as needed but not tire out the people around him.

He had been doing so well as an insei. He had been top of the class for a time, a shoo-in for the next Pro Examination and regarded highly by both pros and Go Weekly alike. The attention had sent him faltering for a bit but his role as the insei class mediator and well-liked first rank had earned him steadfast friendships that he Isumi could enjoy.

Even when Hikaru joined their ranks and climbed to the top like an unstoppable force, Shinichirou did not get angry or jealous. He smiled like he always did, encouraged the other because that's what a mature boy does, kept his errant classmates in line and included the otherwise awkward blond-banged boy into their ranks because to be kind was natural to Shinichirou even if his place in the world of Go was no longer so secure.

But then Fujiwara Hikaru turned out to be _Shindou_ Hikaru, and now Shinichirou's place in his family was no longer so secure.

Shinichirou objectively understood that it wasn't like his stepfather or step-grandparents were going to just cast him aside as his father had done, but that didn't necessarily mean that they would make time for him either. Hikaru's hostile attitude hadn't deterred the Shindou family, it had spurned them on; the type of family loyalty that Shinichirou had always admired was rearing up in the Shindou family now but Shinichirou wasn't exactly a part of it.

At his most basic level, Shinichirou had regarded Hikaru as a friend. As a _brother_ , however - adding another into the mix would be destabilizing and put stress on their new family. Mirai was still so little and likely to be confused by his suddenly existent brother, and judging by Hikaru's reactions to his own father - Shinichirou doubted the boy would pay an respect or give any affection to Shinichirou's mother. Masao had divorced Hikaru's mother for Shinichirou's so it was likely that Hikaru would blame his broken family on Shinichirou's mother no matter how Masao tried to take the blame.

Shinichirou liked Hikaru as a friend. The boy was a bit weird, a bit moody - but he was a good person and fun to have around. His skills in Go were exemplary and Shinichirou respected him as both a classmate and a player, and he had expected that they would have grown to become good friends further down the line.

But Shinichirou didn't want him as a brother.

That was the real crux of the matter. Hikaru could be a good friend because there remained some distance between them then. Shinichirou didn't have to include Hikaru in his personal family problems, didn't have to compete for their parents' attention, didn't have to make sure Hikaru didn't put any unwarranted stress on their little family. Hikaru as a friend could be dealt with separately and with minimal investment; Hikaru as a brother would require more time, more energy, more devotion. Shinichirou could hold himself aloof with his friends: he could smile and laugh and play, could chide without fearing drastic repercussions, and even if they had a falling out - it would not be the end of the world for him. To Shinichirou, friends were temporary but desirable; family was necessary but costly.

But it didn't matter what Shinichirou wanted for the family because, in the end, he was an outsider just as much as Hikaru; both children from prior relationships with no permanent place in the Shindou line. The difference was that Fujiwara Meijin _wanted_ Hikaru - but no one aside from his mother had wanted Shinichirou.

So even if Shinichirou didn't want Hikaru as a brother- _smile_.

Even if he didn't want to share his mother and stepfather with him- _be mature_.

Even if Shinichirou just wanted his small family for himself- _act kind_.

_"Shin-chan's a good boy... That's why Mama loves you so much."_

Yes, that's right - He just had to stay quiet and be good-

"Shin-chan? You're going out today?" Tomoko asked, pausing briefly to smile at him as he passed the kitchen. Almost on reflex, Isumi went to deny it - but he recalled that he was indeed going out; he had made plans with Waya and the other boy would become cross if he cancelled at the last minute without a legitimate excuse.

" _A-Ah_... Yes, I'm meeting Waya for lunch. We're going to play at some Go salons today," Isumi answered, feeling irrationally guilty.

Tomoko nodded in understanding, soft smile ever present. "Will you be home in time for dinner?" she asked genially, but her attention was soon turned elsewhere once Mirai toppled over his toy blocks with a plush deer and loud cry.

"Honey, play quieter," his mother chided.

Mirai hushed only briefly, eyes catching on Isumi. He stood up, one red block in hand, and rushed over to give it to his older brother with a giggle. Isumi accepted it with a smile, thanking the child and excusing himself from the house.

Isumi was to meet Waya at McDonalds, a different one than their usual haunt but still less than an hour away from Isumi's house. There was a Go salon that neither had visited in the area and Isumi was looking forward to some games; they may not be hard games, considering they were both high-level insei, but getting in some extra practice against different opponents would still be a worthy venture.

Waya had wanted to bring Hikaru along, too. Just as Isumi had been trying to think up ways to excuse himself should the blond-banged boy agree to come, Hikaru had declined Waya's offer with the excuse that his teacher wanted more time with him today.

_Fujiwara Meijin_ , Isumi knew. Honestly, the more Isumi learned about the other boy, the weirder he became: why did Fujiwara-sensei's adopted son and prodigious student join the insei class? Wasn't having the Meijin and a ninth-dan as teachers enough to learn from? Hikaru could have easily passed the preliminaries with their guidance, so why did he feel the need to dominate the insei class as well?

_It must be nice, having so much money to spend,_ Isumi thought idly ( _bitterly, tasting like cereal doused in spoiled milk_ ). Fujiwara Meijin was rich, after all; everyone in the Go pro world knew of the man's family connections. This made Hikaru's attempt at taking his ( _their_ ) grandfather's goban all the more hurtful - Fujiwara could easily afford the nicest kaya goban in the world. Why did Hikaru have to come for Shindou Heihachi's?

Waya was already waiting outside the McDonalds when Isumi arrived. This was a surprise; Isumi prided himself on being the first to arrive. He checked his wristwatch, vaguely alarmed to find that he was almost ten minutes late. Just how much time had he lost to just thinking about Hikaru?

"I'm so sorry!" Isumi said as soon as he drew even with the shorter boy.

Waya blinked, taken aback by his friend's panicked expression. "Nah, it's fine - I just got here a few minutes ago. It's no big deal," he waved off.

Isumi didn't look appeased but Waya decided not to dwell on that strange response. All of his friends were being a bit strange now - well, Nase was always a bit strange so nothing new there - and instead just led the older boy into the burger shop.

They'd decided to forego sushi today; Waya wanted to make sure he had enough money should they end up serial salon-hopping again, especially if the first parlor wasn't any good. Isumi was quiet their entire lunch. The older boy usually always played the good listener when they hung out but that didn't mean he never talked. Today, Waya almost felt like he was eating by himself - even Isumi's reactions to his complaints about Morishita and Shirakawa were more subdued than usual.

It was likely Isumi was just stressing out about the upcoming Pro Exams. Isumi always became so full of self-doubt during tournaments that it was one of Shirakawa's strongest criticisms of the boy. Waya reflected that it was a good thing that they did this salon-hopping activity; the more opponents Isumi defeated, the more confident he could become. Fukui had mentioned there had been a surprisingly strong opponent in the preliminaries so Waya was being extra cautious not to repeat what had happened last time with Touya Akira.

The Go salon they had picked for their first jaunt today was one Isumi had learned about through word of mouth; apparently the former insei Kishimoto had recommended it as one of the stronger-level Go salons in the metropolitan area. It was a nicer place than Waya was used to, bigger on the inside than the nondescript entrance would have belied.

A pretty young woman manned the front desk, with short hair and an expression that perked up into a serviceable smile without a hitch. "Welcome!" she greeted, eyes skimming both boys. There was an odd moment after where she hesitated, smile drooping, but she pulled it back on admirably as they stepped closer and dug out their wallets.

Only after paying the requested amount did it become clear why the woman had such a strange reaction to seeing them. The general conversations of the rest of the salon patrons was practically a murmur compared to where everyone's attention had a tendency to wander.

_Touya Akira_ was present.

Waya had stopped walking, wide eyes focused on the Go pro in disbelief. Why was Touya Akira in a Go salon? _Wasn't he too busy with being an actual pro to go around crushing amateurs?_ Waya thought unkindly.

Isumi was glancing around the place. "Ah... Doesn't Touya-sensei own a Go salon?" he mused aloud.

Waya choked. "We're at _Touya's Go salon?"_

The boy didn't have much of a chance to express his outrage at their destination; Touya had turned away from whatever game he'd been studying on the goban in front of him. " _Where_ did you get _cheesecake_?" the young pro asked viciously, sounding clearly scandalized.

Waya finally noticed that Touya wasn't sitting alone. Next to him was a tall boy with glasses, a sharply displeased look on his face that Waya vaguely recognized- _Is that...Kishimoto?_ Waya identified shakily. _He hangs out with **Touya Akira**?_

"I made it, of course," Kishimoto sniped back. There was a clear undertone of ' _you idiot_ ' in his words, as if Touya should have expected that the older boy would bake a cheesecake and bring it to a _Go salon_.

Touya sighed, "Senpai, you can't just- _Kaneko-san, why are you eating it?"_

"Because it's rude to refuse a gift," a chubby girl with a bobcut answered simply. She had a slice of the aforementioned cheesecake on a plate before her, forking in one bite after another. "You should have a slice too, Akira-kun."

"No thank you-"

Kishimoto snorted. "Haku here doesn't want to ruin his figure," he waved off.

Touya's expression contorted interestingly. " _Stop_ calling me _Haku!"_

"Yeah, Kishimoto-san - only Hikaru-kun can do that," Kaneko jeered. "They have pet names for each other now."

Kishimoto gave the girl a sour look. "What did I tell you about implying that sort of thing? The images never leave my head and I don't need that idea cluttering my mind."

Touya looked like he didn't know whether to scream in frustration or just resign himself to his fate, so he settled for glaring at his companions with a look that Waya could only describe as mulish. He didn't know Touya was even capable of showing more emotions than vague disdain or smug superiority.

"Why are you here? You two usually spend time at the Heart of Stone," the pro player pointed out, tone dour. It was obvious he'd wished they had stayed there.

Kishimoto leaned back with the look of a king surveying a pauper. "I paid the entrance fee so I can be wherever I damn well want to be," he reasoned out pompously.

"Don't tell me how to live my life, Akki," Kaneko threw in, just to be petty.

Touya reflexively picked up a Go stone with the clear intention to throw it at the girl. Kishimoto had seemingly procured an extra plate from nowhere - there was actually a short stack of them next to him, given by Ichikawa when he'd asked upon entering the salon - and cut a slice for his volatile underclassman.

"I'm surprised you're here as well, Kaneko-chan," Kishimoto interrupted, forcing the plate into Touya's hands. "Moreso that you're here without that idiot."

"Don't call him an idiot!" Touya snapped out. He would have looked more intimidating had he not been holding a quaint slice of cheesecake with a glazed strawberry on top.

"Hikaru's still mad at me," Kaneko shrugged, ignoring Touya's interruption. "Because when he was being stupid, I tried to stop him from being stupid, but then he just got stupidly angry at me for trying to help him so now he's being stupid again and ignoring me!"

Both boys were staring at her.

"...Hikaru being stupid isn't exactly a rare occurrence, can you be more specific?" Kishimoto asked after puzzling out her complaint.

Kaneko scowled, "No."

Just as Kishimoto was handing Touya a fork - "Either eat it yourself or I will _feed_ you, you twig!" - the bespectacled boy spotted the two insei standing a few paces away from them. The boy glanced them over, recognition dawning once his eyes landed on Isumi's troubled visage.

"Isumi-san?" Kishimoto identified.

"K-Kishimoto-kun," Isumi greeted back, still looking unsure of himself. "It's been awhile."

They didn't talk often but Kishimoto was one of the first people Isumi had met when he'd initially joined the insei school. The bespectacled boy wasn't there long; he lacked the skills needed to advance and he'd dropped out in favor of pursuing Go more for leisure than as a career. Still, he'd gotten along well with Isumi - most everyone did, but with Kishimoto's otherwise prickly personality, his friendly acquaintanceship with Isumi was more notable. They'd traded phone numbers and sparsely kept in contact, although their contact had gotten more frequent thanks to Hikaru joining the insei ranks.

Isumi remembered that very suddenly: Kishimoto was one of Fujiwara Hikaru's friends. Touya Akira was one of the blond-banged boy's friends too, judging from the way they interacted at the Young Lions Tournament. And now that he'd gotten a closer look, he could recognize the girl too - she had been present at his grandparents' house that day.

He was in a Go salon that was owned by the father of one of Hikaru's friends, now meeting face-to-face with the boy who had introduced Hikaru to the possibility of being an insei and the girl who had tried to help Hikaru steal a goban from Isumi's grandfather.

Isumi wasn't wanted here.

"I- We should go," Isumi said quietly, taking a step back and reaching one hand out to pull at Waya's sleeve. The younger boy looked at him confused; he didn't much like either Touya or Kishimoto, but it wasn't like they _had_ to interact with them. They were here to play Go, after all, and the clientele of the former Meijin's Go salon would be of a better caliber than some yakuza den.

"They're insei," Kishimoto was explaining to his two younger companions. "Isumi-san is a top-ranked insei, too."

Touya didn't look that interested, but that was a given because aside from Hikaru, he wasn't interested in insei as a whole. Kaneko was looking over the two boys thoughtfully, eyes drilling into Isumi as she tried to recall why he looked vaguely recognizable to her.

It didn't click until she'd examined him for a full minute, but when it did, she stood up quickly and nearly sent her chair crashing down to the ground. " _You_ ," she declared; she sounded unhappy but not angry, although that gap was quickly diminishing going by the look in her eyes.

"Kaneko-chan?" Kishimoto blinked.

Waya had been riled up by the tone alone. "What the hell's your problem?" he sneered right back at the girl.

Kaneko ignored him, turning to Kishimoto. "You said he's an _insei?_ Is he in the same class as Hikaru?"

The idea made acid rise in her throat. She recognized the older boy from the short moment she'd seen him in the Shindou household, from the pictures of him littered about Shindou Heihachi's house that showed a close relationship. She remembered that Hikaru's father had remarried and his new step-son was an insei.

She hadn't thought about it back then, but now looking that older boy in the eye - had he known? Had he known about Hikaru long before that altercation? Had he just simply never said anything, thinking he could keep the Shindou family to himself?

"Fujiwara Hikaru?" Waya interjected. "Of course we know him! He's our friend!"

Isumi flinched back as if struck. Waya turned to him at the reaction, eyes widening in incomprehension; Kaneko had turned back to Isumi with a glare that rivaled the one Hikaru had once leveled at Ikeshita when the boy had insulted Isumi's skills after losing his match in the Young Lions Tournament. Now, standing as the center of attention, all of Isumi's childhood fears came rushing up once more.

He knew. He'd always known - the moment he got more attention, he would be disliked. Isumi didn't even want to look at Waya's expression; the girl's was more than enough.

"Some friend you turned out to be," Kaneko sneered.

Friends were temporary, after all. Why would anyone expect anything from simple friendship?

Isumi turned tail and fled.

* * *

Hikaru's phone started ringing in the middle of him explaining to Tsutsui that his misplaced stone had cost him a vital part of the board. The blond-banged boy was going to ignore it, but the idea that it could be Sai checking up on him made the idea seem unwise; his guardian had become more vigilant as of late and it wasn't as if Hikaru was going to risk annoying the man by telling him to stop.

The name on the Caller ID wasn't Sai's however, but Tsutsui had already excused himself to the restroom so Hikaru saw no harm in taking the call.

"Hey," Hikaru greeted into the phone. "What's up, Waya?"

He hoped this wasn't another invitation to go salon-hopping with him and Isumi. Hikaru wouldn't mind going with Waya, of course, but the idea of seeing Isumi again sent a wave of poison festering in his gut. Hikaru hadn't worked through his thoughts and emotions about the older boy yet and wasn't sure if he ever would. He'd liked Isumi a great deal as a friend; the older boy had always been kind and encouraging, just like Tsutsui. It had been impossible to hate him.

It was a lot easier to hate him _now_. The idea of being replaced by _nice, perfect Isumi_ was one that sent his blood boiling and Hikaru doubted he would ever be able to see the older boy as a friend again, when all he could see was his father standing behind the other insei.

_"Where are you right now?"_ came Waya. He sounded like he was out of breath, which was odd considering he should be out playing Go with Isumi rather than sprinting a marathon.

Hikaru thought about lying for a moment; he'd made the excuse that he was studying with his teacher although he was just playing at the Heart of Stone. Then again, he could just say he had been studying with the man earlier in the day and was now playing around.

"Out with a friend," Hikaru decided to be honest.

_"Can we talk?"_ Waya asked without missing a beat. He didn't sound angry, just determined. _"Isumi...already went home."_

Hikaru blinked, uneasiness filling his heart. That Waya freely said that without prompting was suspicious, and now that he thought about it - Waya and Isumi were pretty close. Certainly closer than the other insei, and would it really be odd for Isumi to confide in a friend?

_"Please,"_ Waya stressed.

Hikaru really wanted to say no. It was easy saying goodbye to friends, after all; hadn't he already said goodbye to many?

Hikaru hung up.

Stared at his phone.

Then, almost reluctantly, messaged Waya the address of the Heart of Stone.

Tsutsui returned, taking in Hikaru's downtrodden expression with an inquisitive stare. "Is something wrong?" the older boy asked.

"One of my insei classmates is dropping by," Hikaru replied vaguely.

Tsutsui looked thoughtful. "A friend?" he asked after a moment.

Hikaru frowned, putting his phone back in his pocket. "I don't know," he said quietly.

Tsutsui took that in silently but didn't ask more questions, resuming his seat. Instead of pushing Hikaru for more information, he distracted him by diving back into the game discussion. Hikaru wasn't quite as energetic as he was before but at least now Kawakami didn't look like he was going to start pulling out the impressively extensive collection of snacks he'd accumulated just for Hikaru's sake.

The moment Waya stepped in, Hikaru's relaxed countenance completely changed. The boy sat up a bit straighter, green eyes watching as Waya's gaze swept the small salon before alighting upon him. The older insei paid the entrance fee without hassle, hurrying over to Hikaru without noticing the way the other clientele eyed him as he passed.

Tsutsui didn't move from his chair until Hikaru's quiet request, and so the older boy went closer to the entrance where Kawakami was talking with another patron. Waya didn't seem to care, eyes reserved for Hikaru; the older boy looked winded, expression troubled but pulling a smile onto his face once he'd spotted Hikaru clearly on his guard.

"So this is your favorite Go salon, huh?" he greeted lamely.

Hikaru nodded, expression inscrutable. The smile dropped from Waya's face, his posture crumpling a bit. He looked awkward, standing before Hikaru and not quite making eye contact. It was determination and stubbornness that had gotten Waya this far, after all; but there was clearly something going on between his two friends that was personal.

From the very moment he'd first met them, Waya had been met with boundaries. Isumi drew the line between him and others using polite language and courteous smiles, maintained a friendly countenance without ever relying on anyone else. Hikaru kept his distance through outright avoidance, initially distrustful of anyone who approached him and vitriolic in nearly every social aspect aside from the game they shared.

Waya had to be able to cross those boundaries, no matter how much it bothered him to do so. The boundaries they put up between themselves and him should be tested, no matter how exhausting it was to weigh his every move against them; Waya was brilliant in a lot of ways, most of which because as a friend, his loyalty would never be called into question.

So when two of his friends got into a fight, Waya had to become involved; their reticent natures would only guarantee a mess with little to no hopes of reconciliation, and Waya didn't want to see that. It was careless and reckless, but sometimes - people had to make that call because the consequences of not doing so were too dire to leave alone.

"Did something happen with Isumi?" Waya finally asked.

Hikaru didn't bat an eye. "Not really," he answered boredly.

"You're avoiding each other," Waya pointed out undeterred.

Hikaru shrugged. They were, after all, and were doing a great job of it as well.

"Isumi's your friend, why don't you just ask him if you're so curious?" Hikaru asked. His tone wasn't obstinate nor defensive, but it did err on the side of contemptuous. Clearly Isumi had gotten on his bad side.

"...He's your friend, too," Waya replied.

Hikaru snorted. _Bit more than that now,_ he thought spitefully.

Waya frowned, before taking the seat next to Hikaru with a sigh. "Listen... If you guys are actually having a fight-" Which would be surprising because Isumi really was just _that nice_ and it wasn't like either boy met up without one of the others present anyway, "-then I won't force you to get along. But... I just want you to know, Isumi isn't exactly the type to purposely be mean. He's... He doesn't have the kind of confidence to belittle others."

Hikaru didn't say anything.

Waya scratched the back of his neck, feeling out of his depth in the face of Hikaru's lack of reaction. "He's always been a bit sensitive when it came to others. I think... He gets along with everyone but doesn't really have a lot of friends. Weird, isn't it?"

Hikaru's stare was calm and Waya was violently reminded of the way Hikaru looked when he placed his stones in atari. "Not really," the blond-banged boy replied evenly. "He's had plenty of help from his family anyway so it's not like he's lonely."

After all, what did _fucking Isumi Shinichirou_ know about being lonely?

Waya fidgeted, eyes not quite meeting Hikaru's own pair. "Isumi... His family hasn't always been that great. It was just him and his mom for a long time but his mom had to work all the time to support them, so Isumi was left alone a lot. His mom just remarried recently..." he explained haltingly.

Waya and Isumi were close - Waya was the likely the closest friend Isumi had ever had. He was the only one that had ever visited the Shindou home, after all; Isumi's mother had been simply delighted to finally meet one of her son's friends. She'd lightly explained her prior time as a full-time worker and Isumi's endearing independence, and no matter how cool Waya found Isumi's maturity, there was still that underlying reality that Isumi had been forced to grow up very fast.

"...Is his step-dad nice to him?"

Waya blinked. The non-sequitur was surprising, but at least now Hikaru seemed a bit more interested in the conversation.

"Yeah," Waya said. He'd met Isumi's stepfather only a couple of times, but judging from the number of times Isumi had to decline Waya's invitations out to instead spend some quality time with Shindou Masao, Waya thought their relationship was quite good. Isumi himself never spoke badly of the man and seemed very happy with his new family overall.

"Do they spend a lot of time together?" Hikaru continued. His words were mild yet there was a soft croon in the way he voiced them, a subtle type of lull as if he were leading into something Waya would not be prepared to handle. The insei didn't know where this line of questioning was heading or why it felt like a trap.

"I-I guess?" Waya hazarded out. There was no point in lying.

"That's funny," Hikaru didn't sound amused. If winter had been granted a voice, Hikaru's tone could give it a decent run for its money. "He never really had time for me."

Waya stared at him.

_Is... Is he mad because Isumi-san couldn't meet up with him or something?_ Waya wondered, confused. Cancelled plans didn't explain this level of animosity, though. The idea that all of this drama came from something so inconsequential was laughable, but the next statement out of Hikaru's mouth killed the mirth immediately.

"Isumi's stepfather is my dad."

The bored tone was somehow more unsettling than the look on Hikaru's face, but that could just be because Waya couldn't _see_ the other's face anymore. It couldn't be a joke because Hikaru wasn't the type to lie about this, but somehow - the idea just couldn't register in Waya's mind. Isumi's stepfather...was Hikaru's father. The idea was so unexpected that it was difficult to process.

Isumi's mom had remarried only a couple of years ago. Isumi and Hikaru had not known each other prior to the insei class.

Waya had to think about what those two facts meant.

If Isumi's mom had married him, that meant that Hikaru's father had been single at the time. If Hikaru and Isumi did not know each other prior to the insei class, then that meant Hikaru was not with his father during that time or afterwards. So, Hikaru was likely with his mother or some other relative, and did not know about his father remarrying, or if he did, did not know it was to Isumi Tomoko.

But he knew now.

It was a common thing, wasn't it? A divorced parent finding someone else, and their kid getting angry that someone had replaced their other parent? It didn't matter how long the separation was for, to Hikaru - it would just mean his father had replaced his mother with Isumi Tomoko. And, by extension and given his previous callous observation, Hikaru thought his father had replaced _him_ with _Isumi Shinichirou_.

Waya could see why Hikaru would be angry. Maybe the divorce had been messy, maybe Hikaru sympathized with his mother more; it was obvious he did not have a very strong relationship with his father. Now that same father was doting on Isumi, and though to Waya, Isumi really did need that kind of attention and affection - it was obvious that so did Hikaru.

But to prefer one over the other was unfair to both. What was Isumi's stepfather thinking?

"Look, I'm not- I'm not saying you shouldn't be angry. You probably have plenty to be angry about," Waya began uneasily. "But... Isumi-san isn't the one to blame for this. I doubt he had anything to do with his mom and your dad hooking up, he was just - He's just like you, you know?"

Hikaru's answering look was frosty. "I don't think we're very alike at all."

"That's not what I meant," Waya backtracked. "It's just- It's not Isumi's fault that his mom married your dad, just like it's not your fault that your parents divorced. Those were choices made by your parents, and you and Isumi were just caught in the repercussions."

_My entire life is just one long, shitty repercussion,_ Hikaru thought hatefully. He knew that Waya had a point, understood the reasoning and knew that, at its very core, he was right; Isumi was not at fault for Hikaru's parents splitting up and what had happened to Hikaru afterwards. It made no sense to blame the older boy for everything that went wrong just because he'd gotten everything Hikaru had ever wanted.

But blame was as addictive as it was destructive, and Hikaru was hurting far too much to be mollified by a friend's reasoning. In the end, Hikaru's father and grandparents had still abandoned him and replaced him with Isumi; Hikaru's mother had still neglected him and cursed his existence in the rare moments she acknowledged him; Masaki had still gotten to him in his moment of vulnerability; Hikaru was still not quite "fixed" yet-

People replace things that are broken. Hikaru was cracked and crumbling and one day, Sai would get tired of looking at all those fractures and-

"I'll see Isumi in the Pro Exams," Hikaru stated.

Waya winced. "And then what?"

"We'll probably face each other on the goban at some point," the blond boy mused.

And in Go, they were on an even battlefield- and so only there could Hikaru kill him.

* * *

The room was dimly-lit, a state he favored because the harsh glare of lights made him uneasy and the softer the glow in his home, the more gentle it looked. He had always prided himself on making his home a comfortable space, a safe haven for his beloved to relax and where they could just enjoy each other's company. Now, though, it felt empty - clearly missing a vital piece to his own personal heaven.

"I've been so patient with him, you know? I had to be, because Masaki-kun was always getting in the way and Itsuka's always been so shy," he complained. He had never really held that against Itsuka; of course he'd be paranoid because of those disgusting men he'd had to entertain. It was just another facet of life to the boy, and no matter how much he himself tried, that didn't mean Itsuka would quickly come to trust him.

It would just take time, he'd reassured himself. He just had to make himself a permanent part of the boy's life, the preferable choice over the others, and for awhile there - he'd known he was succeeding. Itsuka had loved him, maybe not as much as he himself loved Itsuka, but love could grow stronger over time. He was good at waiting.

"Did you know," Amekura began softly, fingertips brushing over the piano keys but still he did not let them rest there. "That I taught him to play the piano a bit? He liked to listen to me play, of course, so I thought I'd teach him a song or two. He looked beautiful when he played!"

Hibiki nodded. She was such a good girl; she told him all she knew about Itsuka, any new gossip that had cropped up after someone had _stolen Itsuka from him-_ and, even though he wasn't interested in loving her the same way he loved Itsuka, Amekura had still grown rather fond of her.

"I taught him Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_ ," Amekura recalled fondly. Hypnotizingly, his fingers began to play. The familiar tune reminded him more viscerally of that day; Itsuka swathed in sunshine, pretty green eyes locked on their fingers, sitting unsure next to him as Amekura led him into the piece. "It was abridged, of course - but he played it beautifully."

One of his fingers stuck to the key, jarring a note. Amekura paused, frowning, before turning over his hands to get a good look at them. "I rarely miss a note," he mused. "It's probably because I miss Itsuka-kun too much, isn't it?" he chuckled, smiling at the girl.

With one hand, he reached forward and grabbed her by the top of her hair, shaking her head in a compliant motion. Hibiki's body slid a bit from the chair she was resting on, the front of her pretty lilac dressed stained red. Already her skin had cooled, rigor mortis setting in, and the harder it was to make her nod, the more frustrated Amekura became.

The piano teacher sighed in frustration, running blood-stained hands through his hair. "I just really want to see him again," he groaned. The smell from the boy's leftover clothes had long since faded, and the only thing he had left were the pictures he'd taken of Itsuka's sleeping face.

But pictures weren't enough anymore. Mementos weren't enough anymore.

The man wanted to cry, keeping a white-knuckled grip by the roots of his hair on his bowed head. _"My Hikaru-kun..."_

* * *

The train station was bustling by the time Hikaru had arrived. He'd initially wanted to come with Riz- with Mitani, seeing as the other boy had gotten the OK from his new guardians over their beach trip. However, even though the amiable couple were planning to spend the night in Tokyo, checking over some stores they owned and visiting with Sai, they had opted to drop their charge off at the train station themselves rather than leaving him with Sai first-thing upon arrival in the city. Hikaru himself had asked Sai if he could visit the beach with his friends only the week before, so he wasn't going to push for anything more and risk getting the trip cancelled by his otherwise concerned guardian.

Unsurprisingly, both Tsutsui and Akira were already waiting at the designated spot, the latter wearing an eye-wateringly lime green button-up that once again reminded Hikaru of what a fashion disaster his new friend was.

"Ah, you're right on time, Hikaru-kun!" Tsutsui greeted warmly. Hikaru gave the older boy a smile, touched by the ever-present geniality, before turning to greet Akira with a raised eyebrow.

"You should ditch whoever is buying your clothes for you," he said in lieu of a greeting because Hikaru wanted that first jab in.

Akira spluttered. "I happen to like the color green!" he defended himself irritably.

Tsutsui sighed. _And he just got here, too,_ he thought in exasperated fondness as both boys immediately devolved into petty banter. This was the scene Kishimoto and Hidaka walked in on, namely Akira waspishly telling Hikaru that he would "strangle him using that stupidly bright yellow shirt!"

Kishimoto didn't even have the courtesy to look surprised by their resident Go prodigy threatening murder, and Hidaka just looked _delighted_. ( _Probably because she taught him half of the threats in his repertoire_ , Kishimoto thought critically.) Tsutsui thought the girl looked very pretty in her soft pink sundress and denim jacket, but she ruined the angelic image once she'd launched herself at Akira and practically strangled the boy into a hug, his flushed face pushed unashamedly into her cleavage.

"Akira-kun, you look horrible as always!" she said cheerfully, otherwise ignoring his flailing as she turned hawk-like eyes on a surprised Hikaru. "And you must be the mystery boy that these two idiots are all excited over! Nice to meet you."

"N-Nice to meet you," Hikaru answered back in kind.

"Hidaka, he can't breathe like that," Kishimoto stated boredly, not even trying to help free his underclassman from his girlfriend's hold. He knew a losing battle when he saw one. Hidaka let go with a smile, enjoying the vivid blush painting Akira's face for the moment it was alive. The fact that the boy went and ducked behind Hikaru was rather amusing to her, since the blond-banged boy was obviously still unsure of how to react to her.

Good. She'd hate to be predictable - that's just boring. "I'm Hidaka Yuuri, a junior at Kaio," she introduced herself. If she wasn't smiling, she'd likely come across as stern; god knows she'd terrified enough of her classmates in the past.

"F-Fujiwara Hikaru," the boy returned. He spoke his last name oddly, as if he had difficulty forming the words. "A freshman at Haze."

He was Akira's age then, which was kind of a surprise - he looked a bit smaller than the petite prodigy. Maybe Akira could only befriend people that were both inexplicably cute and intimidatingly good Go players? The idea made Hidaka's grin widen.

Hikaru was spared from further scrutiny when Kaneko showed up, lightly apologizing for running late. The effect was kind of ruined as she'd said it in a complete monotone and was also sipping a milk tea from one of the train station shops, but no one was going to point that out since she was also untiringly carrying two watermelons one-handed.

"We're just missing Rizumu-kun then," Tsutsui tallied up. He'd been mildly surprised to see that Hikaru had shown up without the boy.

Hikaru's eyes lit up as he remembered something. "Oh, he goes by 'Mitani Yuuki' now," he said. "Rizumu was just a nickname he ended up really hating."

It was kind of the truth. Hikaru wasn't going to explain _why_ the change had happened, of course, but all the same - no one looked like they were going to ask further. Both Tsutsui and Akira just nodded in acknowledgement, Kishimoto hadn't even outwardly reacted, Hidaka hadn't yet met the boy in question, and Kaneko just shrugged in acceptance.

"Oh, I forgot to bring a hat," Akira realized as they idled.

"There's a shop near the western exit that sells hats," Kaneko offered. The boy wandered off under Tsutsui's considering eyes - should he assign everyone a partner? - but before the former Haze Go club captain could do any such thing, Mitani finally turned up.

The boy looked...surprisingly healthy. There had always been a rather sickly air that hung about Rizumu, as if he were always a heartbeat away from crashing. It had gotten better, in some respects, due to the constant availability of food and good sleep when he had been at Sai's place. Now, with the Nakikawa's vigilant care, he actually looked more alive than Hikaru had ever seen before: his skin had regained a more healthy pallor, the eyebags diminished and the lines of his face smoother, most of his burnt skin and chapped lips healed. His blue hoodie and white shorts made him look cleaner, as if he'd been revitalized by the colors alone.

He just looked so much _better_. Far better than Hikaru could have ever done alone, so the feelings were mixed then; on one hand, he was glad to see his friend doing so well. On the other hand, it was almost like even Rizumu had not needed him, as if Hikaru had just been inconsequential in the long run. Hikaru didn't know why he felt hurt and surprised by the revelation.

"Yo," Mitani said gruffly. No apologies forthcoming, but on some level, all present that had known the surly Rizumu expected the rudeness.

_The number of pretty boys keeps growing,_ Hidaka observed in amusement.

"Yuuki!" Hikaru grinned. He looked like he wanted to rush over and hug the boy, but Mitani put a stop to that by hugging the blond-banged boy first. Kishimoto just rolled his eyes at the pair, far too used to their antics, even as Kaneko looked thrilled.

"We heard you're going by Mitani Yuuki-kun now, is that right?" Tsutsui asked after his own greeting.

Mitani nodded, expression deadpan despite the intrusively close proximity he was standing to Hikaru. "You guys have to call me Mitani now," he said. "If you slip and call me 'Rizumu', I'll just kick you in the shins."

"How is violence going to help us remember!" Tsutsui snapped out in horror.

Mitani didn't even deign that with a response.

Enoshima Beach laid just south of Tokyo in the Kanagawa prefecture, about a 1.5-hour journey by bus and train - although in their case, just getting there had taken the better part of three hours because they'd lost Akira as he went hat shopping and Tsutsui had to spend the better part of 30 minutes trying to convince Kishimoto that he didn't need to bring "enough sunblock to swim in," as Hikaru had courteously put it. By the time Hikaru and Hidaka had returned from their expedition to locate the wayward Go pro (wherein, to no one's surprise, _Akira_ found _Hikaru_ first), they had just three minutes left to get on board their designated train.

Needless to say, their much-awaited beach trip had been off to a rocky start.

Finding the perfect spot to lounge on the beach would have been much easier, if they didn't have always-a-perfectionist Kishimoto leading them, Hidaka and Tsutsui playing the role of his live-action angel and demon on his shoulders. Akira and Mitani were following behind the older three, silently obedient, although mutinous expressions were slowly filtering in on both boys' faces and Hikaru gave them about ten more minutes before things got violent again. This, of course, left him to bring up the rear of this little troupe with the one person he'd also been avoiding after that disastrous day at the Shindou's: Kaneko.

After the fact, he'd realized the only reason Sai knew where they were and what they had been doing was because the girl had been messaging him. Hikaru had been furious - Kaneko was supposed to be his friend, was supposed to keep his secrets the same way he would have kept her's. Even if he had been doing something she did not agree with, that didn't mean she could go tattling to his guardian.

It was kind of weird, having an adult in his life that his friends could go tattling to, Hikaru ruminated. The idea that Sai cared enough to get angry over Hikaru's actions had diminished most of that leftover anger, especially since the man hadn't exactly punished him for what he'd pulled. That didn't mean Hikaru would automatically forgive Kaneko, even though her actions directly lead to Sai stepping in and stopping Hikaru's father from getting too close to the boy.

Kaneko was holding up remarkably well: her usual caustic attitude was in high gear and she seemed endlessly amused by their friends' small squabbles, although there was a rigidness in her posture that suggested she wasn't entirely comfortable in the silence between her and the boy at her side. Hikaru wondered if it was petty of him to enjoy her awkwardness but damn it all, he was a petty person to start with anyway.

"I'm sorry."

Kaneko wasn't petty. If she had been, Hikaru could have found it in himself to hold the grudge for longer. It still hurt, after all, and he was still dealing with the consequences of his actions courtesy of his fallout with Isumi.

But even Hikaru knew that all of that had little to nothing to do with Kaneko.

"I'm sorry that I called your guardian without telling you," Kaneko continued. Her voice was soft, audible only to the two of them, minced by the sound of their footsteps sinking into sand.

"I'm sorry that you may have gotten in trouble because I called him." Someone in the distance was laughing raucously, a child screamed as her feet touched ocean for the first time, a seagull screeched overhead. "I'm sorry that you felt that you had to do all that."

"I'm sorry for a lot that happened that day between us," Kaneko said. The beach bag she had hoisted over one shoulder slipped a bit, the tinkling rustle of coins audible from the inside. Up ahead, Hidaka laughed unapologetically as Kishimoto nearly tripped forward into the sand. "But I'm not sorry that I tried to stop you."

Hikaru remembered she'd said something about him being better than that, remembered that Sai had said something similar - as if they saw Hikaru as someone better than he really was. Hikaru did not pretend to believe in himself; he knew where he stood, he knew himself and just how low he could sink.

_("You are so brilliant, so talented - and you don't even know it.")_

Just what did everyone see, when they looked at him now?

"Okay," Hikaru nodded in acceptance. He didn't accept the idea that he was someone better, couldn't believe something as naive as that - but he would accept her apology because Kaneko had always meant well. Hikaru was petty but he forgave easily - there was no time to nurse grudges, especially ones against friends.

Kaneko visibly relaxed, relief flooding her round features. She looked so young then, giving Hikaru a shy smile only a moment before rushing a couple steps ahead to playfully bump shoulders with the russet-haired boy in front of them.

"Whatcha think? Isn't the beach pretty?" she asked. She looked revitalized by Hikaru's forgiveness, a weight missing from her shoulders and a new bounce in her step.

Mitani's flat expression did not waver. "There's a fucking lot of sand and a fucking ton of people," he responded dryly.

"You're always such a people person, Yuuki-kun!" the girl sighed dramatically.

Mitani elbowed her aside in irritation but the girl wasn't phased in the least, shoving him back and sending the frailer boy toppling into Akira. Hikaru took that moment to steal the ludicrously elegant strawhat off of Akira's head, running ahead and ignoring Akira's yell of outrage in favor of smashing the offending article onto Kishimoto's head.

Kishimoto tore the hat off in record speed, throwing it aside in obvious disgust. "Can't you children _behave?"_ he hissed.

Hikaru was smiling, unrepentant, nimbly keeping out of Akira's reach as the Go pro attempted to tackle him to the sandy floor. Kaneko was swinging her bag of watermelons side-to-side like a particularly threatening battering ram, whereas Mitani had rebelliously taken a seat on the ground and refused to go any further.

"Isn't this spot fine, Kishimoto-kun?" Tsutsui asked good-naturedly, stepping in between Hikaru and Akira with practiced ease. "It's a good distance from the shoreline and not too crowded."

Kishimoto would have argued that but Hidaka had already put her stuff down and stared at her boyfriend challengingly. Behind her, Mitani had slouched onto his side and seemed perfectly content to take a nap right then and there. ("Yuuki, you're gonna get sand in your ears!" "I hope it blocks out the sound of their voices.") The Kaio Go club captain gave in with a heavy sigh, leaving Tsutsui wondering if all Kaio students were as dramatic.

The girls decided to go change first, pulling along Tsutsui as an escort against his blushing protests. They hadn't bothered to bring beach chairs but Kishimoto had brought a large umbrella, setting it up above the large mat Akira had brought to sit on. Hikaru and Mitani were sorting through the snack bag and beverage cooler; they hadn't brought much considering there were numerous food stalls set up along the beachwalk.

"Did you really pack a bentou?" Mitani asked, his voice tinged in disbelief as he glanced at Kishimoto.

The bespectacled boy gave him a haughty look. "It's just fruit and onigiri, and if I hear one sneering comment about it, I'll let you starve," he threatened.

_The fact that everyone automatically knew it was you that brought it is the funniest part,_ Akira thought.

The girls returned, each hanging off Tsutsui; the older boy had resigned himself and just kept quiet, his vibrantly-red face looking like a premature sunburn. The other boys took off to change quickly as well, although there was a short tussle when Mitani had taken one look at Akira's salmon pink palm tree-dotted swimming trunks and asked him if he enjoyed making people's eyes bleed. (Hikaru had just been thankful the boy had not come out in a speedo.) Kishimoto pretended not to know them and scampered out of the changing rooms, Akira's strawhat on his head.

"What should we do first?" Tsutsui asked the group at large, once they'd reconverned.

"Swimming!"

"Sandcastles!"

"Food!"

Hikaru turned to look at Mitani inquisitively. "You can swim?" That would definitely be news to the boy.

Mitani stared back at him evenly, "No."

"Don't get swept away in the tide," Kishimoto tossed out, walking off in the direction of the yakisoba stall with Hidaka, absent-mindedly grabbing Tsutsui by the elbow and dragging the older boy along.

Kaneko grinned in excitement, eyes resting on Mitani. "C'mon, you lazy prick - I'll teach you how to swim," she offered. There was a small rental shop loaning out floaties nearby that they could use and there was no time like the present to learn.

Mitani looked to be having an internal debate; Hikaru had wanted to build sandcastles, after all. The blond-banged boy was currently trading intense looks with Akira though, promising to build a "better sand kingdom than Haku could ever hope to build!" A large part of Mitani wanted to follow Hikaru, as he had always done before. It would be so much easier than putting himself out there and trying something new.

_One step at a time,_ Nakikawa Kosue often said. _Do not rush in and hurt yourself, but do not stall and wallow; move forward carefully, one step at a time. Change can be a slow process but well worth it._

"If I drown, I'm haunting your fat ass," Mitani swore to the girl.

Kaneko rolled her eyes, mocking him in a high-pitched voice.

By the time the three older students returned, Hikaru had demolished Akira's shoddily-built sandcastle (although to be fair, Hikaru's was equally as bad) and now the insei was burying the Go pro's legs and lower torso with unnecessarily focused concentration. Kishimoto and Hidaka had eagerly rushed forward to help, leaving Tsutsui to try and find their other friends amongst the throngs treading the shoreline.

Kaneko and Mitani had moved into waist-deep waters, the large girl holding the boy's hands as he every so often flopped forward to engage in some mockery of swim practice, swim inflatables strapped to both arms. They were among the quietest there, but Tsutsui knew them well enough to tell by the looks on their faces that they were trading vicious jibes with no real ill-intent.

_Better just leave them to it,_ Tsutsui decided. He rejoined the others playing in the sand - by this point, Hidaka was drawing abs in the sand above the general area of Akira's torso and Kishimoto was sipping a juice box, utterly ignoring Akira's justified complaints that the club captain had essentially stolen his hat.

"It only looks good on me," Kishimoto said.

Hikaru glanced up from where he was lining Akira's sand pseudo-wrist with seashells. "Only Akira can pull off that hat," he pointed out, if only because Akira was the only one who could wear such awful things without making Hikaru want to gouge his own eyes out. He'd just simply become too used to the Go pro's awful fashion sense now.

"Of course you'd pick that obsessive little pretty boy over the truth," Kishimoto muttered.

Hikaru leaned down to whisper in Akira's ear, "Aim for him during the watermelon smashing."

Akira nodded in agreement solemnly.

Tsutsui turned right back around. _Better just leave them to it._

* * *

**A/N** : Tsutsui, you can't run... Next chapter is the watermelon smashing and the Pro Exams! o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o

Note 1) **Isumi Shinichirou** : I think Isumi is very kind and mature for his age, but how he got that way is important; he hasn't had an easy time in life either. He had to be mature because his mother needed him to be, thus he didn't have time to just be another rambunctious kid - which was too bad, because that's clearly messed with him in terms of his relationships with others outside of 'family'.

Isumi treasures his friends and would be there to support them, but he holds a very distinct barrier between himself and others, which makes it very hard for him to develop a more genuine connection with them. Imagine it like the difference between someone you're friends with in class or work, compared to your best friend - the first you don't mind chatting with or being around, but the latter is someone you can rely on and confide in. Isumi has a kind of drastic version of that, since from when he was little, his "world" had been very small. Waya comes the closest to actually breaching that gap but it won't be an easy (or pretty) thing.

Note 2) **Shindou Masao** : Initially, I was going for a character that wasn't just total scum because that didn't seem very realistic and it's too easy to deal with an antagonist that has no actual redeeming qualities. Masao is very flawed but he's not the _absolute_ worst, so I'm pretty happy with how he turned out here. Also, kinda amused how much all of you seem to hate him anyway! Hahaha~

Anyway, thank you for reading! _Please be kind and **drop a review**._


	21. Beneath the Overlay

**A/N:** Took a bit longer than usual for this chapter, haha! Sorry, was out of sorts for awhile there.

Thanks again for all the comments! :)

**Disclaimer** : I do not own _Hikaru no Go._

**Warnings** : Ditto the last.

**Pairings** : Ditto the last.

* * *

**Chapter 19**

_Beneath the Overlay_

* * *

Hidaka is a pretty girl.

Tsutsui had noted that as soon as he'd seen the girl. Her close-croppped blond hair and wide eyes gave off a fey-like countenance, but her personality was anything but shy; if Fujisaki could be compared to a demure maiden awaiting a knight to save her then Hidaka would be the one who slayed her own dragon and sold the mincement. Not to mention she wasn't deterred in the least in her interactions with her more subdued peers, often giving both Kishimoto and Touya a hard time just for entertainment.

And now this, Tsutsui thought, gazing flatly ahead at the girl. Hidaka was grinning broadly, one arm raised up as if to signify a car race – the fact that she was set to signal the start of a _seashell collecting_ race did little to impede her generally unwarranted enthusiasm. Then again, she was the one who had come up with the idea; it seemed she found Akira's strange rivalry with Hikaru to be high-quality entertainment and did what she could to egg it on.

Tsutsui privately thought she was deranged. Just fifteen minutes ago, the two boys had been arguing loudly over what they considered to be the best flavors for shaved ice, drawing a high volume of blank stars from other patrons and embarrassing Tsutsui enough for all three of them.

"Ready, set," Hidaka began officially. "START!"

Hikaru and Akira tore off in the same direction, buckets clamoring, dodging other beach-goers while simultaneously keeping an eye on the beach for seashells and each other. Tsutsui watched them go with an expression close to defeat on his face – maybe if he pretended it wasn't happening, it would end quicker.

"What do you do with seashells?" Mitani asked. He was seated on a towel, sharing both that and a bowl of shaved ice with Kaneko. The russet-haired boy had quickly and efficiently refused to join the absurd competition, and Kaneko was happily eating her fruity treat after mockingly encouraging Hikaru to do his best.

"You can keep the best ones for decoration, or use them for crafts," Kishimoto answered. He had declined joining as well, citing the fact that he "wasn't 5 years old or an idiot" and preferring to recline under the umbrella. "I used the ones I've found in homemade decorative jars or fitted them onto hairclips."

(Somewhere in the distance, Tsutsui could make out Akira's distinctive voice hollering "that's not a seashell, you idiot!")

Mitani looked over at the austere boy in thought. "…so if I give you some seashells, can you make me something?"

("What the- _Ow ow ow!_ Akira, get it off! Get it off!")

"What are you gonna do with something like that?" Hidaka asked, forcing herself into the conversation. It seemed the girl didn't see why a boy would like something so homely – or at least, a boy that wasn't her boyfriend.

Mitani glanced over at her. "Give it to Hikaru," he answered honestly.

Hidaka stared at him.

("Stop moving around, you're scaring it!")

Kishimoto snorted. "I guess. You have to give me the seashells you want in it though, I'm not going to do your dirty work for you," he ordered.

Kaneko waved her spoon in the older boy's general direction. "Technically, you are doing his dirty work since you're making the- _ow!_ You twig!" the girl cried out, rubbing the side of her ribcage where Mitani had jabbed her with his elbow.

(" _I'm scaring it?_ It's gonna _rip off my skin!")_

Tsutsui got up with a sigh, moving in the direction where the two younger boys were still yelling at each other. Kishimoto checked his watch. _Only five minutes, huh?_ He observed. He'd intended to let them go wild until beach security was called to restrain them, but Tsutsui was such a mother hen.

By the time Tsutsui had returned with the two younger boys in tow, Kaneko and Mitani had finished their shaved ice and Kishimoto was re-applying Hidaka's sunscreen. Hikaru was bitterly inspecting his right-hand's index finger, which had turned a bright red and prompted a small scowl on the boy's face. Akira, walking beside him, was criticizing at it with a justly stern look on his young face.

"What, no seashells?" Hidaka asked at the sight of the empty buckets.

"He decided he wanted to disturb some poor crab," Akira said.

"That little shit wanted to tear my skin off!" Hikaru defended himself hotly.

Before Akira could launch into a poorly thought-out rant about shellfish feelings, or whatever else he could think to say in direct opposition to Hikaru because Akira thrived off the blond-banged boy's attention, Kaneko got the group's attention when she pushed forth one of the watermelons she'd brought.

"Who should go first?" Kaneko asked pointedly.

After a few rounds of rock-paper-scissors, Hidaka emerged victorious and was the first to be blindfolded. Being the tallest of the group, Kishimoto was left in charge of spinning her and had to vehemently defend himself when the others made several catty comments about "not playing favorites just 'cause you kiss her!"

"I am very kissable," Hidaka stated with a sultry smirk. She didn't need her sight to know that her boyfriend only rolled his eyes.

Several screams later, with Akira ducked defensively behind Tsutsui and Hikaru trying to wash the sand from his eyes, Hidaka's little wooden bat made contact with the watermelon, to Mitani's obvious delight. Kishimoto didn't think he'd ever seen the russet-haired boy looking so animated before.

"Kaoru-kun," Hidaka crooned, pulling off the blindfold victoriously. She struck a flexing pose with a winning smile, bat kept wisely in hand. "Does the sight of these guns make your little maiden heart flutter?"

Kishimoto wisely didn't say anything in response, because he _knew_ she'd use it as ammunition against him somehow. Hidaka was just riding the high she got from success, and she always coupled that with a healthy dose of teasing. Nothing pleased the girl more than getting a rise from her boyfriend.

Hikaru made a scoffing sound to the side. "Well, _now_ your relationship makes total sense," the boy muttered. Hidaka's answering laugh was light and promised a future of being heard at Kishimoto's expense.

Kishimoto stared at Hikaru stonily. "No onigiri for you," he decided.

* * *

"Has your face always been this terrible looking?"

Loud laughter filled the cramped space of Sai's apartment. The Meijin remained impassive in the face of such raucous noise, an unimpressed look on his face that he'd perfected long before he'd thought to leave his father's clutches. Not that that helped now – Tsubaki Toshirou wouldn't be moved by anything short of a murder attempt, and even then, Sai was certain the man would shrug off any wannabe killer. Kawai's slouched figure on Sai's couch only cemented this fact.

Unlike the rough-hewn look of the man in the dreamverse, Tsubaki cleaned up considerably well; with his neatly-pressed suit and newly clean-shaven face, he cut an intimidating figure in court. Sai could privately admit that the likely reason Tsubaki had been such a crude but well-meaning guy in his coma was because that's what he'd been like when Sai had first met him, back when Sai had first decided to leave the Fujiwara home. Tsubaki had looked like he belonged on a construction site, not in the courtroom. Sai's leaving had had a greater effect on Tsubaki than anyone could have predicted.

"Please stay on topic, Tsubaki-sensei," Sai reminded him tiredly.

While Sai didn't hold Tsubaki with the same amount of wary contempt he held Kawai, that didn't make their relationship any less strained. As far as Sai was concerned, anyone under his father's direct command was someone to be treated with a high amount of suspicion. Even now, knowing he was vitally depending on the lawyer, Sai couldn't shake the feeling of discontent at the two mens' continued presence in his home.

"Bocchama's just stressed," Kawai defended him mockingly. "Being a single parent is hard work, isn't it?"

Sai glared over at him, a look so filled with acid that Tsubaki's laughter became subdued. Fujiwara Mitsuo's personal lawyer looked through the papers scattered about Sai's dining table, professional in manner in spite of his casual jeer. Tsubaki was among the best of Fujiwara Mitsuo's personal little army of lawyers, but it was his specialty within the practice of law that Sai was in need of now.

"Like I said before, this is an open-and-shut case," Tsubaki explained. "The papers were finalized months ago. We made sure only Hikaru was moved on the Family Registry, so as far as the family court is concerned – he's _Fujiwara Hikaru,_ through and through."

Sai frowned, picking up the offending sheaf of papers that had started this in the first place. Perhaps he had known it was coming, but still some part of him couldn't accept that Shindou Masao had had the sheer _gall_ to do it. Spitefully, Sai had thought the man wouldn't be brave enough to do so, but then again – he'd likely just underestimated Masao's stupidity.

_Calm down,_ Sai reminded himself, violet eyes boring into the paper.

Shindou Masao had filed for custody of Hikaru.

Sai had never wanted to tear something apart more.

"If you're that worried, I can take care of it," Kawai offered with an easy grin.

Sai didn't even look at him. "Be quiet," he snapped coldly.

Kawai made a show of feigning hurt at Sai's cruel brush-off but went ignored. The man was acting as Tsubaki's bodyguard, accompanying the prize attorney to Sai's place for the duration of their talk. Sai knew that Kawai was just doing so to irritate him and silently vowed not to give Kawai more ammunition than he had already.

"How can you be sure that the Family Registry will be enough?" Sai asked.

"It's more than just the Family Registry," Tsubaki said with a shake of his head. "According to the family court, Shindou Masao gave up all custodial rights when he divorced his first wife. After that, Shindou Mitsuko held sole custodial rights over Hikaru-kun, and so the moment she signed that away to you – then as far as Family Court is concerned, you are the one and only parent of the boy."

Sai relaxed marginally. He'd known this all months ago, when first going over the papers as he looked for ways to take Hikaru away from his neglectful mother. When he'd first decided to protect Hikaru, Sai had gone all in – he'd looked for the best ways to provide for him, in a way that was permanent. Originally, it was a way to combat any move Shindou Mitsuko may make to reclaim Hikaru as her's; now, against the man that was Hikaru's father in blood alone, Sai was testing the strength of the claims he'd made in law.

"According to child custody laws, you never needed Shindou Masao's consent to adopt Hikaru-kun after he'd given up custodial rights," Tsubaki continued. "His claim will be dismissed the moment the judge sees it."

Sai nodded, albeit weakly.

Tsubaki shuffled the papers thoughtfully. "Do you harbor any doubts about Hikaru-kun?" he asked evenly.

Sai started, broken from his ruminations. "Wh-What do you mean?"

"Do you think he'll choose Shindou Masao over you?" Tsubaki clarified.

Sai's eyes narrowed. "Absolutely not," he answered coolly. Hikaru wouldn't have chosen Masao if he'd been left on the streets, would never be able to trust the man that had thrown him away all those years ago. He wasn't worried because Hikaru choose his biological father over Sai; he was worried because Masao might take Hikaru by force.

" _If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha,"_ Kawai's tone was droll. _"If you meet your father, kill your father."_

Sai cast him an aside glance but said nothing.

"That's the only circumstance that could possibly not go in your favor," Tsubaki stated. "Even how you first got involved with Hikaru-kun does not matter in the Family Court."

Sai stilled. It felt as if his heart had leapt into his throat but he managed to swallow it just enough to breathe properly.

It should not have been surprising. Of course his father would know, and of course those who would handle this matter directly would know; it only made sense for them to gather all the pieces of Sai and Hikaru's convoluted beginnings. It would be detrimental to their purpose if they were blindsided by such contexts.

"…will that come up?" Sai asked haltingly.

Prostitution was still illegal, and child prostitution was even more severe. Even though Sai hadn't used Hikaru's offered services, it didn't make him any less guilty in the eyes of the law. But more than that, to drag the history of Itsuka back into the light just as Hikaru was _still trying to move past it_ – Sai didn't think Hikaru could survive that.

"Children are not brought into Family Court, at least not for the mediation and proceedings," Tsubaki dismissed. "Hikaru-kun won't be asked for his opinion, not at this age. The court does not take his history into account, either; just as they won't care about his parents' neglect, they won't care about how you two met. All that matters are the custody forms."

Shindou Masao knew nothing of Shindou Mitsuko's abuse, of Hikaru's desperate attempts of survival, of Itsuka and the Gate. Hikaru would never tell him. All that Hikaru had been and would be, those would be overseen by Sai now. Shindou Masao had no place there.

"And for what it's worth," Tsubaki said. "As long as you have actual physical custody of him and unless Shindou Masao is granted full custody, then there's nothing anyone can do to take Hikaru-kun from you."

Sai took that in. "Even Shindou Mitsuko?"

Tsubaki nodded. "The papers were signed, the forms filed, the Family Registry finalized. Hikaru-kun is yours, no matter what Shindou Masao wishes otherwise."

Sai nodded in understanding. To the side, Kawai hid a grin.

* * *

Sky Garden Café looked small from the outside but bigger once entered, as most establishments did on the narrow streets of Ikenoue. The entrance was a simple wooden gate, the name of the establishment written in slanted English and underlined with _romaji_. Pushing through the gate led to a gray-bricked path lined on both sides by leafy shrubs and blooming flowerbeds. The path went straight then curved left, allowing room for the trees to tower and shade all who went beneath it.

The café itself was a small building, made of varnished wood and plaster that was center to the veritable garden around it. The structure was home to the kitchen and the registers, a display of confectionary in the forefront and a small army of coffee grinds stored behind the counter.

Under the August afternoon sun, the garden was mildly populated but not enough to warrant discomfort. This had more to do with the fact that the owner had just put up the 'closed' sign and with each parting customer, the garden grew quieter and quieter. It was unusual, of course, and regulars eyed the sign as they were turned away, muttering about the strangeness. As far as they knew, the Sky Garden Café didn't close until sunset.

Tetsuo sat stiffly on the picnic chair, narrowed eyes moving from the steaming cup of coffee in front of him to the man taking a sip from his own cup. Nothing but classy china would be good enough for their patrons, and they'd brought out their best set for this guest in particular. They had even been granted a seat under the overhanging wisteria, the only spot in the garden that offered some small promise of privacy.

Tetsuo would have sneered at the adulation but knew better. He wasn't some snot-nosed brat that couldn't read the atmosphere, and he knew that just because the man across from him was smiling didn't mean he was necessarily kind enough to overlook mockery.

"You always bring people you wanna threaten to gardens, Sousuke-san?" Tetsuo asked testily.

The man across from him set his coffee cup down gently, violet eyes even as he regarded the boy. He was dressed casually now, grey slacks and a sunflower-yellow cardigan pulled over a pressed white button-up. His hair was black, cut fashionably short without a single gray hair in sight, only the lines around his eyes the only indication of his age and stress.

"I find gardens relaxing," Sousuke said, eyes grazing the trees and flowers. Sunlight and shade played off his handsome face in equal measure, although Tetsuo privately thought he belonged more in the dark. "According to tradition, Emperor Tenji gave Nakatomi no Kamatari his name in memory of the arbor of wisteria where they had laid the plans that lead to the bloody overthrow of the Soga family."

One pale hand traced the wisteria leaves in consideration. "It was in that arbor that the first of the Fujiwaras was eventually buried."

_God, I wish they'd just kill me already to spare me the bullshit_ , Tetsuo thought. It's as if they weren't satisfied with just catching him, they had to talk to him first – and not even something like an interrogation or anything important. Since Tetsuo had first been introduced to Sousuke after that crazy bastard named Kawai had kidnapped him, the violet-eyed man only ever talked about whatever struck his fancy.

Flowers, and history, and coffee, and dream-catchers; Tetsuo couldn't understand half of what Sousuke said and even then, the man still expected some response. Sneers were rebuked calmly and often with a patient smile, and the only time Tetsuo had fallen back on his repertoire of insults, Sousuke had recounted an anecdote about himself when he was Tetsuo's age.

"You do like your stories," Tetsuo bit out. "Is that what gets you off?"

Sousuke laughed. It reminded Tetsuo of Tomorou in the moments before the boy reached forward to gouge out someone's eyes. Some mockery of emotion that felt off because it was always used in a way that didn't fit the context, as if the person laughing only did so in an attempt to emulate human behavior but still didn't fully understand it.

"No, but I do like being around people," Sousuke said with a fond smile. "They're so endearing to me, so full of energy and expression. It feels as if everyone just feels everything so much more intensely than I do. When they're angry, they turn colors and spit; when they're sad, they sob with heaving breaths and with snot running from their noses; when they're happy, they laugh with gaping mouths and shaking bellies."

Tetsuo hated how Sousuke spoke. The man sounded like an outside observer of humanity, didn't quite fit the mold he'd chosen but ran with it regardless. If the man confessed he was some kind of alien, Tetsuo thought that would make much more sense.

"What, you can't get your dick up or somethin'?" Tetsuo sneered.

Sousuke laughed, but somehow Tetsuo knew it wasn't from amusement. "Oh, no, that all works quite well. Can't say I really enjoy sex, though, but don't tell my wife that!" He'd reached forward to brush the bangs back from Tetsuo's eyes, gentle in a way that burned the teen's skin and twisted his gut. "No, you see, I only ever seem to feel something of the same depth as everyone else when it's at _someone's expense._ It has to be prompted, borne from someone else's response rather than just the source itself."

Sousuke's finger traced the rim of his coffee cup. "I once spent a lot of time with this frail and delicate little bunny. I liked it, I think, from the very beginning – but with that kind of simple adoration people lavish on pretty things, no real meaning.

"The bunny was so sad because its owner hurt it often, and when it was left it with me, it just got _so attached_. It liked the attention, liked the gentleness and kind words because it was such a pretty, stupid thing. When the owner died, I was confused to see that the bunny was sad – wouldn't most people be happy, be relieved that someone that hurt them so much was gone?" Sousuke wasn't asking him, not really, and even through the lulling drawl of his words, Tetsuo could sense something sick

"I liked the bunny a bit more then, because it was sad and I just I couldn't understand that. I wanted to comfort it at first because that's what people do when others are sad," Sousuke recounted. "So I tried consoling it, but the more the bunny cried, the more precious it became to me. Strange, isn't it? Back then, I thought it was the bunny's tears and sadness that made it so endearing, and so I did something silly to see more of that…"

Sousuke shook his head with a sigh. "Youth can be so stupid sometimes, so impulsive. I hurt the bunny, disguised my knives behind kindness and dug in deep once I'd gotten close enough. I thought I'd done the right thing then, because afterwards, I just felt _so much love_ for that bunny. I'd never felt that before, never felt such an all-encompassing pleasure," Sousuke smiled and looked utterly inhuman as he did so. "Not from the act itself, no, but its aftermath – I think I fell in love with the sight of his tragedy."

Tetsuo almost wished then, that he'd been kept in Kawai's torturous hands. The man may revel in the violence but at least Tetsuo didn't have to walk through this verbal minefield and wonder which words would set off the explosion. Even his own customers had never had this- _this element,_ the sheer _insanity_ that lurked behind those violet eyes. Drugs were to blame for the erratic actions of his customers, the dependency of which fueled their demands of Tetsuo in turn. The man across from him demanded nothing but his attention and Tetsuo wasn't sure he'd come out the same person if he gave it.

"I loved him most when he came apart under my hands," Sousuke said softly. "But the bunny wasn't as stupid as I had thought and he stitched himself back together, just enough to run away. He'd left an awful mess behind, all his bloody bits scattered here and there to track. I didn't follow him because he didn't want me to, and I love him too much to force my way back into his tattered little heart."

Tetsuo's throat was dry. "That doesn't sound like love," he said.

"You think so?" Sousuke mused. "It certainly felt like it to me. I even told him I loved him so that he could be sure."

"Words don't mean anything," Tetsuo returned. "And I think any love declaration from you would just sound fucking _deranged_."

Sousuke blinked, seemingly shocked by the crude language. He laughed a short second later, violet eyes dancing. "The bunny would probably agree with you," the man offered amiably.

_That poor bastard,_ Tetsuo thought.

"Why did you bother to bring me all the way out here?" Tetsuo demanded of the man's silence. "I don't know anything about Masaki. I don't even know anything about Hikaru now – I can't be of any use to you people."

Sousuke hummed lightly, "I have to disagree with that, _Te-tsu-o-kun_."

* * *

Hikaru had been so accustomed to Ogata's presence in his life, in his spaces, that he almost forgot that the man didn't live in Sai's apartment as well. Then again, just because Ogata had his own place, didn't necessarily mean he _didn't_ live at Sai's place; as far as Hikaru had seen, Ogata was there in the morning to help with breakfast and there when Hikaru went to bed at night. There were three toothbrushes in the bathroom, beer in the fridge that Sai never drank yet still needed to be refilled by the end of the week, even suits too large for Sai's slender frame hung up neat and orderly in the shared closet.

So, now sitting on a slouched sofa in Ogata's apartment, Hikaru looked around with a profound feeling of displacement. By all accounts, this was where Ogata Seiji lived – where he ate, where he slept, where he studied and relaxed and mooned over Sai silently. The place looked lived-in, a couple of Go magazines on the coffee table and dishes still in the drying rack, the quiet hum of the aquarium filter filling the silence. Hikaru watched the colorful collection of fish swim in their contained space, wondered if they recognized that their owner was back.

_Do fish feel things like longing?_ Hikaru mused. Hikaru missed Ogata in the times he wasn't there in Sai's apartment. Not just in the times he wasn't around to cook – at this point, with Hikaru's ever-growing reserve of recipes courtesy of the bespectacled man, Hikaru could make a decent meal for himself and his guardian in Ogata's absence. No, Hikaru missed Ogata _just because_ he wasn't there. When he was gone for a weekend because of teaching games in Sapporo, when he had to stay late at the Go Institute and went back to his own apartment instead of returning to Sai's place, when he wasn't there in the mornings to greet and cook breakfast with – Hikaru missed Ogata during such inconsequential moments.

And where was the fairness in that? Hikaru had gotten selfish with Ogata, just as he'd gotten selfish with Sai – just because they'd provided for him, Hikaru thought he could take more and more from them. More of their time, more of their dedication, more of their lo-

"Seiji," Sai called out inquisitively, interrupting Hikaru's thoughts. The Meijin was seated on the couch next to Hikaru, looking mildly curious. They'd been out shopping together, Hikaru deigning to accompany the two men because the last time they'd gone out together, they'd come back with enough aprons to successfully run an apron modelling shop. That was entertainment gold as far as Hikaru was concerned, and at this point, he wanted to spend as much time with Sai just to ensure the man wasn't still angry about that episode with the Shindou's or regretting his decision to adopt Hikaru.

Ogata emerged from his kitchen, carrying a stack of over 10 plates in his arms. He set it atop the coffee table, in front of Sai, and then hurried back into his kitchen without explanation. He came back with another large stack of plates, went back again, and then returned with a trash bag and a broom with detachable dustpan.

"Come on," he said gruffly, handing over the broom and trashbag to Hikaru and picking up a stack of plates. Sai obligingly picked up the other stack of plates, looking bemused, but apparently he had become quite accustomed to just following Ogata along when the bespectacled man wanted to do something. From the beginning of their friendship, Ogata had always taken the initiative to just drag Sai along to places the man would never have stepped foot in otherwise, usually without explanation

Ogata led the way out of the apartment, and surprisingly to his two companions, he went up the stairs – four more flights, to be precise, until they'd reached the roof of Ogata's apartment building. The day had been dreary, an off day to the usually sunny season, but this was a godsend now as people tended to mill around indoors during such depressing weather. The fresh air that tasted of oncoming rain greeted Hikaru as he followed the two adults, allowing the roof door to slam shut behind him.

Ogata set one stack of plates down, Sai following suit, before digging out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. While Hikaru could understand the appeal of smoking outside on the rooftop, this didn't even begin to explain why the man had brought them along up here.

"Pro Exams are next week," Ogata started diffidently.

Sai's head snapped up from where he'd been inspecting the ledge, a displeased look flashing across his face. Given Hikaru's last episode at the Young Lions Tournament, the Meijin hadn't felt comfortable bringing up the upcoming Pro Exams as confidently as he'd done with the Young Lions Tournament. While he'd been playing Hikaru at least once a day ever since the end of the last tournament, and while Sai had once again taken the precaution to stress that developing his Go wasn't an arms race, and that Hikaru didn't have to wager everything he had on the Exams – just like before, Sai realized it might not be enough.

And just like before, Sai had to worry about other parties coming in and destroying Hikaru before he even had a chance to spread his wings. Hikaru's last interaction with the Shindou family weighed heavily on Sai's mind, moreso when Sai thought of his own reaction to it – he'd been furious. A small part of that anger was reserved for Hikaru, a gut-reaction at seeing the boy walking into such a situation that could have been entirely avoided if he'd just gone to Sai with his worries first. The majority of that anger was reserved for the Shindou family, though; seeing Shindou Masao and his parents living such a content life could have been ignored, if they hadn't trapped Hikaru in such a way that the boy was obviously made uncomfortable and panicked. They' had hurt Hikaru so much that the boy would rather sell himself than go to them, and because of that fact and nothing else – Sai hated them.

"What about them?" Hikaru asked, trying to sound detached.

Sai's fists balled at his sides. Hikaru was always so unsure of himself in situations like tournaments, so desperate to prove himself to Sai despite the fact that Sai had never needed it. Sai knew why the boy was so desperate for his approval, though, and even more than that – knew Hikaru would never be satisfied with his answers no matter what Sai said. Hikaru sought approval but never believed it when it was granted, and it was so frustrating for Sai, always standing next to the boy and saying all the right things but having it never be enough.

"You two have been studying every day," Ogata said. "So now – we are going to take a little break."

Hikaru wrinkled his nose, as if finding the idea of taking a break distasteful. Sai just looked plainly confused; of all the reasons he could think of for Ogata to bring them to his apartment, 'taking a break' wasn't one of them. He could, of course, see the merit in Ogata's words; they'd been studying like madmen recently, Sai desperate to assuage Hikaru's fears and ready him for the Pro Exams. Sai had just wanted Hikaru to feel as ready as possible on the first day of the Pro Exams, and thought teaching him more intensely than ever was the best way to do so.

It was…remiss of Sai, not to factor in something as obvious as taking a break. It was just that Hikaru was always so eager to learn more, to practice more – and Sai always found it breath-taking to watch Hikaru evolve, to know that he was one of the core reasons for that change.

"Are we having a giant imaginary picnic or something?" Hikaru asked drily, glancing at the stacks of ceramic plates.

Ogata gave him a bland look. "Yes, because I can think of nothing more un-stressful than a fake tea party," he sniped.

Sai looked unsurely at the plates. "Seiji, that's, um, a unique way of relaxing…"

Ogata rolled his eyes. "Save it, you idiot," he cut in. He had a lit cigarette between his lips as he moved forward, picking up one ceramic plate. With an almost theatrical flair, he tested its weight in his hand. Both Sai and Hikaru watched him in curiosity but were unprepared when Ogata suddenly whipped his arm back and then forward, flinging the plate across the short distance to the opposite wall and shattering it.

Sai blinked, taken-aback; he'd instinctively thrown an arm in front of Hikaru defensively, although the boy only looked surprised by Ogata's sudden desire to destroy his own dishware.

"Friend of mine taught me this," Ogata explained idly. "Whenever he'd get so stressed out that it almost felt like he'd implode because of it, he'd take a bunch of cheap plates and just throw them at the wall, or against the ground."

Ogata took up another plate, throwing it with practiced ease and watching in vague satisfaction as it shattered. "Worrying and generally being so stressed the fuck out – that's normal, you know," he said, shooting the other two males knowing looks. "And so people will do stupid things to relieve that stress. Shrieking into the karaoke machine, walking until it feels like your legs will fall off, cuddling some poor unfortunate dog that's had enough of your attention – people have done all sorts of things just to remind themselves that there's something more to them than their worries."

"So, you…destroy things?" Sai asked unsurely.

Ogata laughed. Sai couldn't help but stare; the sound of Ogata's laugh had been so light, so genuinely happy that it seemed to shine from his face. There was nothing derisive in Ogata's countenance, only a carefree kind of air to his smile that Sai didn't think he'd ever seen before, because if he had, Sai was sure he would have remembered seeing such a beautiful expression.

Ogata held out one plate. Sai started, attention turning to the offer and away from Ogata's face. Hikaru did not move, quietly observing, green eyes going between Sai and Ogata's outstretched hand. The boy wouldn't take it, not without express permission from Sai first; Hikaru would not risk Sai's disapproval if the Meijin did not like this method.

There was something painful about knowing that, Sai thought. The dreamverse Hikaru would have jumped at the chance for some harmless distraction – any child would have, especially with an adult's express permission.

So Sai did what he thought was best, and took that proffered plate. Ogata only stood nearby, watching him, small smile playing at his lips as he took another drag at his cigarette. Hikaru's eyes were very wide as Sai reeled his arm back, flinging the plate forward with an almost thoughtless abandon.

A resounding crack echoed over the quiet rooftop, ceramic shards thrown in various directions.

Ogata made an appreciative noise. "Nice throw," he observed.

Sai didn't say anything, staring at the mess he'd made. His fingers almost felt like they were tingling, and the tightness in his shoulders slowly began to ebb when Ogata only looked amused by the destruction. Approval was not an odd thing for Sai to see in the faces around him, but coupled with the sincere brightness in the ninth-dan's expression boosted Sai like nothing had in a long time. It was as if everything Sai had internalized slowly started to leave him, flung away and shattered into crystalline fragments against the wall.

Sai took up another plate, flinging it just as hard as the first; it shattered and rained against the pavement, a light tinkling sound that matched the cheer in Sai's laugh.

Ogata offered Hikaru a plate.

The boy took it with a bit of hesitation. It was clear that Sai did not disapprove of it, clear that Ogata even valued such an exercise – but the part of Hikaru that was terrified of acting out just in case Sai found it repulsive was one that had grown larger as of late. But if Hikaru didn't play along, then wouldn't Sai be disappointed too?

Unsurely, Hikaru threw the plate forward. It smacked into the wall with a dull thud, a crack breaking into the side but not shattering it completely. Instead the plate fell with a ringing clang against the pavement, seeming to echo in Hikaru's ears. Heat flushed his face; embarrassment mixing with shame at his failed attempt.

_I can't even do something as easy as this,_ he realized in dawning horror.

Sai's look, however, was nothing but thoughtful. "…there's no need to hesitate, Hikaru," the man said. His ability to discern what had bothered Hikaru never failed to both impress and terrify the child. "Seiji wants us to break these plates."

"I bought new ones so I don't need these anymore," Ogata offered. He was lying, of course, but they didn't need to know that. As far as Ogata was concerned, a couple dozen broken plates was a small price to pay to alleviate some of their built-up stress.

"And honestly," Sai continued. "You actually do feel a bit better afterwards."

Sai threw another plate as if to demonstrate this point. His voice was lighter, the stress lines on his face relaxing somewhat as he watched with some small amount of relish as the shards scattered. Hikaru took in Sai's lively expression, Ogata's obvious amusement, and turned back to the stack of plates.

Hikaru picked up another plate, and with more force and direction, hurled it at the opposing wall. It came apart with a resounding shatter against the concrete, Sai's delighted laughter easing the tension in Hikaru's shoulders.

It was an odd sensation, destroying private property without fearing retaliation. Especially as of late, Hikaru had taken to being careful of every move he made in regards to Sai, careful not to do anything too extreme or lacking in propriety that would push the poised man. But now the Meijin was throwing plates and laughing as they fell to pieces, was deriving joy from doing such pointlessly careless actions.

Hikaru found he liked it. The idea that Sai could find enjoyment from such simple things humanized him in Hikaru's eyes, brought him down to a level Hikaru could understand better. Sai wasn't this endless depth of patience and gentility; he internalized his problems, stress building all while he smiled and played and taught, and just like any other person, he needed a way to vent them.

Hikaru could understand that well. People were ruled by their appetites. Sex was one such appetite, and one he was especially familiar with as Itsuka. But violence was one just as big, just as domineering, and Hikaru remembered that just as vividly as he recalled the color of the bruises around Rizumu's throat or the taste of blood in his mouth after Yamaguchi's friend had got a hold on him.

Destruction wasn't necessarily bad - amidst a sea of rubble lay the foundation, ready to be built up from the ground once more; from within the tattered shreds of the chrysalis, a butterfly stretched its wings; from the countless fragments of a split watermelon, Hikaru and his friends could share the sweet treat.

Hikaru took up more plates, tossing them with less hesitation with every flick of the wrist.

_Good may yet come from broken things,_ Ogata thought.

* * *

The first day of the Pro Exam found Isumi feeling more sick than ever. Not actual illness, like the cold or flu, but the type of psychological fatigue that clawed deep ridges into his ability to concentrate and maintain something reminiscent of level-headed ease. While he'd always felt less confident when participating in tournaments and the like, so focused on improving his Go and living up to expectations, there was even more added to his plate with the Pro Exams.

This time, there was no Touya Akira to resign to, no Mashiba to sneer at him, no steadfast support from those Isumi had relied on the last time. That isn't to say the Shindou family didn't care about him, Isumi knew they did, but there was more to the Pro Exams this time for them as well.

The Pro Exams of which both Isumi _and Hikaru_ were participants.

Isumi didn't see the other boy yet. The lobby of the Go Institute wasn't packed, per se, but it was definitely more populated than usual; Isumi knew most of the faces in the crowd and greeted those familiar accordingly. Waya had spotted Saeki 4-dan earlier and went to speak with him, although he'd promised Isumi to be back soon with a look on his face that verged more on concern than irritation. The other boy had been a bit- Isumi didn't want to describe it as clingy, but definitely more _there_ than usual, as if he were using his own presence to reassure Isumi of whatever imagined issues Waya thought he had.

Isumi wanted to tell his friend that he was fine, he didn't need such proactive concern, and in the end – it was a personal matter and Waya didn't need to involve himself. Some part of Isumi, that small childish part he'd had to compressed to barely a flicker, felt a touch of affection for Waya because of the boy's actions. Isumi didn't believe in such steadfast loyalty, not really, but he could appreciate Waya's earnestness.

Honda had arrived with Shirakawa this time around, yawning loudly before idling off to appease his sweet tooth. Nase and Fukui stood with Isumi now, the girl chatting brightly with the younger boy. Isumi envied her a bit; Nase never appeared to be intimidated by such functions. She greeted tournaments and exams with a type of optimism that was almost vicious, the look on her face fixed somewhere between admiration and bloodthirst. Fukui looked just as pale as he did during the Young Lions tournament, but a bit more relaxed. Under Nase's merciless onslaught and with the sight of Shirakawa roaming among his insei with a sickeningly-sweet smile, Fukui had apparently reached the conclusion that there were worse things than failing the Pro Exams.

"Hikaru-kun still isn't here?" Nase mused aloud, glancing around. They still had a good 20 minutes before the start of the Exams, but most everyone had already arrived.

Isumi made a noncommittal noise. His falling-out with the top insei had gone unnoticed by everyone in the insei class but Waya, and Isumi had no intention of enlightening them. He knew, however abstractly, that he could use that to his advantage; turn the other insei against Hikaru, use that to throw the boy off-kilter and get him to lose some of his matches. But Isumi just wasn't that kind of person, didn't believe in such underhanded tactics that Mashiba had used the year before, didn't want to become someone who won through such petty means.

The idea of facing Hikaru was terrifying to Isumi. Facing him across the goban would always be something intimidating given Hikaru's strength, but losing to him now felt like it would be on more than one level. If Isumi lost to someone like Waya, he'd be hurt and he'd doubt himself but he could still believe he may grow better; to lose to Hikaru now, though, made Isumi feel like he would never measure up to him no matter how he tried.

Isumi knew prowess in Go didn't mean much to his new family. His mother had never understood his fascination the game for all that she supported it, and his step-father had supported him with the sort of casual ease that suggested it only bemused him. Shindou Heihachi had been enthusiastic about Isumi's passion and supported it more than the boy had ever believed possible, going so far as to allow him free access to the man's prized goban and even remodeling an entire study room for him. Isumi had never asked for more than what was offered, and even then felt bad about taking it; now Hikaru would be offered all that and more, and didn't even had the decency to appreciate it.

"Maybe he's coming with his guardian," Isumi said.

So caught up in his thoughts, he'd forgotten to mask his own bitterness. Fukui was too stressed to notice the slip. Unfortunately, Nase's eyes had snapped to Isumi immediately, a shark latching onto the sight of a bloodied seal carcass, and the older boy froze up instinctively. It was beneath him to act so childishly, so he could only internally chide himself and studiously avoid Nase's eyes.

"Oh," Nase began casually, the look in her eyes anything but. "You've met Hikaru-kun's family?"

Isumi was saved from answering by Waya's return, which he regarded with a kind of desperate cheer that only sharpened Nase's gaze. The boy looked relaxed, likely bolstered by his short conversation with Saeki-sensei, and Isumi took account of that with a small flare of jealousy that he immediately rebuked himself for having.

"Only 15 more minutes," Fukui said with distinctive panic. Honda had returned back to the lobby as well, soda in hand and listening with such blatantly-fake regard to Shirakawa's admonishments that the insei instructor's amiable masked slipped enough to give a truly frightening glare.

Waya's eyes scanned the room but he made no mention of Hikaru's absence. Even then, Isumi knew the boy was looking for their classmate and tried not to feel bitter about it. Waya was Hikaru's friend too, and Isumi tried to remind himself that it was a personal matter between Hikaru and him and their family, not their friends.

"If Hikaru-kun doesn't show up," Nase suddenly spoke. "Would you be relieved?"

Her three friends whipped around to look at her, varying states of scandalized expressions on their faces. Privately, the girl was amazed she had even managed to get such a reaction from Fukui – the boy had a tendency to drown in his own dread.

"That idiot better show up, or I'll strangle him," Waya swore.

Nase clicked her tongue. "Not to be rude or anything," she said. "But he has the best chance of passing the Exam this time around. If we're lucky, no one worthwhile came from the preliminaries and we'll only really have to contend with each other for the last two spots."

"He's easily thrown off balance in new environments and against new opponents," Isumi pointed out. That was an observation he'd normally keep to himself out of politeness, but his kindness was limited now when it came to Hikaru and in the end, they were all competitors. They all wanted to become Go professionals, and in doing so, that made them all rivals for the same spots.

"That was weeks ago. And he grows stronger by the day," Fukui said. Waya's expression was pinched but he remained silent.

Nase's grin was mean. "By the _game_ ," she corrected. She gave a helpless little shrug, not quite meaning it but wanting to put it out there all the same. "If he doesn't show, that gives the rest of us a better chance at passing with one more viable spot."

Isumi hated this part of Nase. Not her competitive spirit, not her ruthlessness – but her brutal honesty. She was right, she had a point, and there was a part of Isumi that didn't want Hikaru to show, for all its myriad reasons.

But there was another part of Isumi, a larger part, that wanted Hikaru to show. Partly because they had been friends, partly because of ego; Isumi had to convince himself that he could face Hikaru, face the source of his new family's problems head-on and not take the coward's way out.

"He'll show," Isumi said. "On this Pro Exam or the next, it's only a matter of time before he goes professional."

Isumi could admit a certain…expectation. He didn't know the result of Hikaru's training with Fujiwara Meijin for the past two months, didn't know if his Go had been detrimentally affected by what had happened in Shindou Heihachi's home or only further spurned on. Isumi had grown stronger in the meanwhile, pushed by a desperation to prove himself to his grandfather – he now just had to see how that measured up against the Meijin's adopted son.

"I'd feel relieved," Nase chirped, eyes turned back to the lobby. A smile turned her lips, guileless but sincere. "But I'd also be _so disappointed_."

She seemed to visually brighten then, the cause of which was made obvious when Ikeshita – who had been loitering near the entrance with a constipated look on his face – made an audible groan. Isumi looked over in time to catch Hikaru stepping inside; he had that faintly-terrified look on his face that Isumi was beginning to become accustomed to, even if it wasn't nearly as feral-looking as the one he'd had in Isumi's study room.

"Well it's _great_ to see you too," Hikaru snipped at his fellow insei. Ikeshita made a motion that was either dismissive or a plea for compassion. Uchida, standing nearby, paled drastically and started mumbling a prayer for luck.

Honda's good-natured laughter was a balm to the rising pressure in the room, the cause of which was still shooting Uchida a wary look like he didn't understand her sudden breakdown. "And just when I thought I'd be able to breeze through this Exam without much effort," Honda ribbed.

"…I live to bring you difficulties," Hikaru drawled.

Honda nodded sagely. "You and Shirakawa-sensei, but at least with you, I don't have to worry about getting drunk-dialed at two in the morning to hear about your latest messy breakup."

Hikaru's expression was similar to that of Waya's when he'd first seen the blond-banged boy recreate an entire game he'd played a week ago from memory alone, up to and including the disbelieving stupor. This allowed Honda to drag him towards where Waya and the others were, which was fortunately out of Shirakawa's immediate vicinity because the air around the insei instructor was basically implying murder.

"I think that's everyone from Class A," Nase said in lieu of a greeting. "You sure cut it close, Hikaru-kun~!"

Hikaru snorted, "Don't I know it…" It had taken longer than he'd thought to convince Sai he could take the subway this morning.

He greeted the others, green eyes resting on each in turn with as casual a tone as he could manage. He didn't think he imagined the way both Waya and Nase straightened a bit when he turned to Isumi. "Everyone ready?" Hikaru asked. His eyes rested on Isumi, and he wasn't smiling.

Before Waya could step in, since Isumi looked like he'd rather faint than answer and both Honda and Nase had apparently taken the visual cue that there was a strong underlying tension between the two top insei, Fukui made a choking sound. The youngest insei had his attention turned away from his friends, caught on the person who had just stepped into the lobby.

Waya followed Fukui's gaze, confused. "Who is that supposed to be?" he asked. He definitely didn't recognize the male that had startled an already-stiff Fukui. The others were equally as clueless, going from the bemused noises they'd made in answer.

"Remember, I told you about the guy who passed the preliminaries?" Fukui said haltingly.

Waya couldn't see how the other male could be seen as threatening. He was a runt of a kid, with an ugly haircut and round glasses. He was dressed nicer than most of them, like he was trying hard to be professional, but it ended up just looking a bit ridiculous when everyone else dressed casually.

"He didn't lose a single game in the preliminaries," Fukui's voice had dropped down almost to a whisper now. Fukui may not be the strongest insei present but he was still a promising talent - so when he said someone was strong, the others knew to take him seriously.

"What's his name?" Nase asked.

A successful preliminaries candidate was not to be taken lightly, even if they'd never heard of him before. Touya Akira had passed through the preliminaries, and Hikaru had appeared without one warning whisper – the title of 'insei' didn't mean they were the only ones worth watching.

Fukui cringed a little more into himself.

"His name is Ochi Kousuke."

* * *

**A/N** : Some people noticed the clue in the last chapter, but yeah~ Ochi~

_Note 1)_ **Family Registration System** : Also known as koseki. See Chapter 8 for more notes on it.

_Note 2)_ **"If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha. If you meet your father, kill your father."** \- A widely-known koan (anecdote/dialogue/statement). To understand that all forms are false, preconceptions must be destroyed, and one will only understand the true perception when one has reached it, not by recognizing it from descriptions.

In short, Kawai is being a smarmy asshole.

_Note 3)_ **Sousuke's Tragedy Bunny** : It's not a bunny.

_Note 4)_ **Ogata** : I don't know about you, but if I lived alone, I wouldn't need 20+ plates for my single lifestyle. (ಡ艸ಡ)

Thanks for reading thus far! _**Please be kind and drop a review!** _


	22. Unraveling

**A/N** : Pro Exams~ Pro Exams~ (Let's all fall apart at the Pro Exams~)

Also, thanks for the comments everyone, I'll try to respond in the next day or so! °(❛ᴗ❛)°

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own _Hikaru no Go_.

 **Pairings** : Ditto the last.

 **Warnings** : Everyone's a mess, except Honda. (Wonderful, beautiful Honda...)

* * *

**Chapter 20**

_Unraveling_

* * *

Everyone was called into the Exam room over the intercom, the two main organizers sitting at the front of the room with a host of papers spread in front of them. All of the examinees filed in and sat along the walls quickly, the air palpably tense and unsettlingly quiet. Those who used to diffuse such tension remained silent – Honda staring aimlessly into the air, Waya forcing himself between Hikaru and Isumi, and even the eager Nase acted subdued.

"I will be calling your name, please come up and pick a number from the envelope," one of the organizers said, holding up said item. "That will be your number for the rest of the examination and your matches will be decided with it. After today, we will post up the assigned matches on the board out in the reception area, which will tell you who your opponent will be and your assigned board."

The man began calling out names in a crisp manner, efficiently assigning numbers with minimal fuss. Nase maintained a disposition similar to a mouse as she went up, and all who knew her marveled at the act; Fukui had marched like a mechanical soldier at his turn; Isumi was as solemn as a funeral; Honda looked bored by the entire enterprise; Waya managed to seem the most relaxed of the insei, which had Ikeshita grumbling in envy; Hikaru had gone up feeling wary, and this feeling wasn't helped at all when Uchida abruptly started praying not to have him as her first opponent.

Ochi Kousuke was one of the last to be called and those who had met him in the preliminaries looked far more interested in his placement. The way the boy's eyes latched on to Hikaru was discomforting to the top insei but Hikaru could only silently wonder why the small boy was so interested in him. He supposed it would be considered normal for people to be cautious of the top insei and so tried not to give Ochi much thought.

Waiting at his assigned goban, Hikaru was almost surprised when Ikeshita reluctantly sat down across from him with an expression closer to anger than apprehension. "Of all the people to get first," Ikeshita bemoaned, glaring over at Hikaru as if it were personally his fault that they'd been matched up.

Hikaru sighed. "We'd be matched up eventually, anyway," he pointed out with rare diplomacy. "First or last, it doesn't really matter."

Ikeshita snorted. "Do you know how hard it is to bounce back after losing the first match? It ruins the whole flow."

It said something about Hikaru, that Ikeshita was so sure he would lose to him right off the bat. As far as the insei class was concerned, Hikaru had won every match against the other boy – but still, they were in top form, Hikaru hadn't played Ikeshita for awhile now and didn't know how much he'd improved, and any number of factors could gain Ikeshita the win.

Nase, seated at the goban next to theirs, leaned over to clap a friendly hand on Hikaru's shoulder. Making sure he met her eyes, she gave him a shyly encouraging smile that would have been pure maidenly on any girl that wasn't Nase.

"Destroy him, Hikaru-kun," she said sweetly. Across from her, her opponent started to look terrified.

Ikeshita groaned, _"I hate both of you!"_

Once everyone was settled at their assigned spots, the Pro Exams finally began.

Ten minutes later, Ikeshita fled the room and Hikaru's first official win was recorded.

* * *

Sunday morning found Hikaru carrying a bentou lunch into the Go Institute and greeting a lethargic Honda in the commons. The blond-banged boy put Ogata's handmade bentou in the fridge for later, still confused at why the bespectacled man had spontaneously decided that Hikaru needed homemade food in the first place. Come to think of it, it was probably Sai telling him not to eat too much junk food during the Exams, and then Ogata got it into his head that junk food was all Hikaru ate and decided to remedy that himself.

Hikaru stared at the fridge he'd just closed. _Should I make sure it's not Totoro again?_ he wondered to himself. Ogata wasn't that petty, was he?

"Did you check the board yet?" Honda asked from where he sat, half sprawled over the table. Mornings did not agree with him.

"Not yet," Hikaru answered, figuring he'd believe in Ogata not to embarrass him in front of possible coworkers at least. He left the room and entered the reception area, where already a few other examinees were looking at their assigned matches for the day.

Before he could even take one step in that direction, Nase came barreling into his side. She righted him before he could fall over, grabbed him by the shoulders, and grinned at him with the sort of look that said she had already drank far too much caffeine this morning.

"I'm gonna give you so much hell," she promised brightly.

Hikaru stared at her. "…so I guess we're matched today?" he hazarded out. Hopefully Nase didn't just decide to become hostile, because he could barely keep up with her enthusiasm as a _friend_.

She released him with a nod. "I already know you won't take it easy on me as a fellow insei-"

"Ikeshita psyched himself out!" Hikaru interjected defensively.

Nase steamrolled right over him. "-so don't think I'm just gonna let you walk all over me," she threatened, before pivoting and striding off with a confident gait. Hikaru could only stare after her helplessly, then with a shake of his head, went over to check his assigned board.

Break time rolled in just after one in the afternoon, less than a quarter of the matches still in progress but now on break for lunch. Isumi and Waya had excused themselves to grab a bite at the burger shop across the street, Honda was fighting for a monopoly on the vending machines with another examinee, and even Fukui had been forced to drag Nase out of the Institute when all the girl would do was glare over at Hikaru.

Hikaru returned to the commons to enjoy Ogata's bentou, taking a seat next to Ikeshita. The other insei was face-down on the table and didn't even acknowledge Hikaru's greeting, but Hikaru found he preferred the silent company anyway. If his other friends weren't under so much stress, Hikaru wouldn't mind a bit of conversation, but everyone pretty much looked like they were running themselves into the ground and it was only the third day of matches.

Opening his narrow, two-tier bento box, Hikaru couldn't help but stare at it. Star-shaped sliced kiwi, perfectly fried tempura shrimp, a cut of grilled fish, two modest rolls of tamago, a small whole tomato, and two delicious-looking meatballs speared with a red star toothpick. Hesitantly, Hikaru set that aside to look at the second box.

There, spelled out in thin strips of seaweed against a generous helping of white rice, were the words _"Good luck!"_

Blushing furiously, Hikaru slammed the cover over the rice and put his face in his hands. _He's so embarrassing! I can't believe it!_

* * *

"Want a Kit-Kat?"

"Ah, sure. Thanks."

Hikaru handed over one pack of pear-flavored Kit-Kats to Honda, taking another bite of his own. These were a gift from Sai, a sort of good luck charm as the man had argued. Hikaru preferred it over embarrassing notes inscribed onto his lunch, although from the look on Ogata's face as he handed Hikaru today's bentou box, the blond-banged boy should expect another artistic design.

Both Hikaru and Honda were in the commons, seeing as it was still too early to go into the exam room. Hikaru had just returned from looking for his assigned match on the bulletin board, finding today's opponent to be _number 12_ – **Honda Toshinori**.

There were already almost a quarter of the examinees idling in the commons, so Hikaru had taken the free seat next to Honda at the far end of one table. Tsudakawa was cramming in some last-minute kifu studying further down the table, Maeda and Komiya were chatting by the fridge, Kokonoe was sequestered in the far corner laughing to himself, Endo, Nase, and Nanohara were by the book collection in very intense discussion over one book Nase was holding, and the tall form of Kaneda was smoking at the table adjacent.

"Did I ever tell you how I met Shirakawa-sensei?" Honda asked, staring at one white Kit-Kat.

Hikaru paused briefly in thought. "…I think you said something about finding him in a tent in the woods?" he recalled vaguely.

Honda's eyebrows furrowed, before the expression cleared in understanding. "Oh, yeah, that. That was a total lie."

"Wha-"

"That's from Fruits Basket. You need to read more manga, Hikaru-kun," Honda observed casually.

Hikaru blinked. "….oh."

"Anyway, we actually met because we're neighbors," Honda continued on. "My parents were out of town a lot, so he ended up taking care of me while they were gone. Or maybe I was the one taking care of him, since he'd usually have killer hangovers when I came over?"

Honda laughed lightly to himself, leaving Hikaru to stare at him owlishly. "So you learned Go from Shirakawa-sensei?" he asked after a moment. He'd never actually seen an official game of the insei instructor's, even if he did know the man carried the title of seventh-dan. In Hikaru's total career as an insei, he'd only ever really played Shirakawa three times.

"Yeah," Honda leaned back in a cat-like stretch. "He was a complete hard-ass teaching me. He used to get all pissy when I forgot rules or made stupid moves starting out. He smoked a lot back then, too, so his apartment just stank of it."

Hikaru could easily see that. He privately thought Shirakawa had the insane ability to fit in at both a fancy restaurant among star clientele, or in the dirtiest back-alley club that even Hikaru had disliked patronizing.

Still, this was personal information of not only Honda himself, but also of the insei instructor. So why was Honda sharing it? Was this some kind of psychological play that Ogata had often warned about? If it was, it had to be the strangest Hikaru had ever encountered.

"So now you know who my teacher is," Honda said with a smile. "And I know yours."

Hikaru stilled. That's right – hadn't Honda implied as much back in the Young Lions tournament? Hikaru had been under such intense pressure at the time that he hadn't been able to comprehend it but back then, Honda had definitely insinuated as such, even if it had been for a benign reason.

"Although, that probably won't save me," the older insei added with another laugh.

* * *

Honda lost by four moku. After they'd cleared the board and left the exam room, he bought Hikaru a Pocari Sweat and left the boy with a smile.

Then he crashed at Shirakawa's place and ate every available snack he could find.

* * *

By the ninth day of matches, everyone had more or less become accustomed to the onslaught. Kobayashi, Nase's first opponent in the Pro Exams, had this permanently terrified look on his face that did little to mollify his opponent even after he won his games. Ikeshita was an expected figure of the commons now, often slumped over at a table regardless of winning or losing his match of the day. Ochi was the enigma of the preliminary-borne competitors, often disappearing during break times and vanishing quickly after his matches were finished.

Of the insei, those that had been expected to do well were faring the best. Waya and Isumi often took off together for breaks, moreso because Waya seemed intent on keeping Isumi and Hikaru separated for the time being. Nase, quick to forgive and move on, had taken to eating with Hikaru in the commons and mollified herself by stealing from his increasingly intricate homemade bentou lunches. Honda had formed some kind of strange kinship with Nanohara over junk food, as the girl had drunk her own weight in soda at this point – to Honda's awe and the organizer's concern.

Fukui was Hikaru's opponent of the day, and the boy was doing pretty well against him. The younger boy excelled in speed Go and had now improved considerably in the time the insei classes had been put on hold, so the game was still to be continued after lunch. Hikaru greatly appreciated the younger boy's composure, especially after last week's match against Uchida; the moment the girl had seen her number matched with Hikaru's _7_ on the Exam board, she'd burst into tears. Hikaru's attempts at consoling her only made it worse.

"Still cruising with zero losses, huh, Hikaru-kun?" Nase asked, stealing a baby chick-shaped steam cake from his lunch.

"I'm not _cruising_ ," Hikaru said. It's not like the matches had been easy, in a variety of ways.

Their conversation – if Nase's teasing could be considered as such – was cut short when Ochi Kousuke took the open seat next to Hikaru without so much as a greeting. The younger boy had brought his own bentou, which looked to be more professionally made but clearly lacked the pure homemaker quality of Hikaru's own meal.

Hikaru blinked, taken aback.

"Well, hello there!" Nase greeted with a leer. "Mister Terror from the Preliminaries!"

 _I guess she gave up on using the Sweet Girl card,_ Hikaru thought absently.

The look Ochi gave her edged on condescending. If he hadn't been nearly half Nase's size, it would have been intimidating; as it was, Nase's eyebrow just twitched in irritation. Ikeshita, sitting next to the girl and across from the new arrival, actually perked up enough to give all three of them a sweeping glance. He looked honestly perplexed at Ochi's presence but he wasn't going to say anything to one of the strongest competitors.

Ochi turned to look at Hikaru. "You're pretty good," he started. He had a softer voice than expected, smooth rather than nasally and with surprising eloquence. He still dressed rather oddly, nothing but expensive brands that only people like Hikaru and Nase would notice, and he still sat with the stiff formality of the high-class.

Before Hikaru could even respond to that, the boy continued with a complete non-sequitur.

"I'm Fujiwara Meijin's cousin," Ochi said.

Nase choked on her food. Ikeshita shot straight up, gaping, and Hikaru had frozen completely in disbelief. Ochi had turned to his lunch, starting to eat with such impeccable manners, it was almost as if he hadn't just said something that had even Sekiguchi from the next table leaning over to hear better.

" _What_." Obviously Honda had arrived just in time.

 _What!_ Hikaru echoed internally.

"My dad is Fujiwara-sensei's cousin, to be more specific," Ochi explained without a single change of expression. "Although Fujiwara-sensei only tutored me for a little. He's really specific about his choice of student."

Even though Ochi hadn't even looked away from his lunch, Hikaru couldn't shake the feeling that the boy was talking straight to him.

Sai had never mentioned any cousins – but then again, Sai avoided talking about his family completely unless they physically appeared. Even the ones he had positive relations with, like the Nakikawa's, had only been brought up because Sai had to depend on them for Mitani. If this cousin was related so closely to Sai, then either they had a poor relationship or none at all.

Then the rest of what Ochi had said caught up with Hikaru. Sai had tutored Ochi. Sai, who had stated from the very beginning that he'd never had any student besides Hikaru, had tutored the boy next to him. What did it matter that it hadn't been long, and with such vague terms, Hikaru couldn't even guess what that meant – a couple weeks? Months? Maybe even tutoring someone for a couple years was considered 'not very long' by such hardcore Go pros.

"I was hoping I could pass these Exams with a spotless record," Ochi mused. He wasn't addressing anyone directly but there was strange expectancy in his words as if he was absolutely certain that he would be understood. "But now there's _you_."

Nase just seemed smug – apparently Ochi's acknowledgement of Hikaru's sheer strength was enough to satisfy her need for revenge against the younger boy. It wasn't lost on anyone that Ochi had correctly identified Hikaru as the major threat to his string of wins, and if Hikaru wasn't so deadset on beating Isumi, he would have been more aware of Ochi in turn.

As it was, even with the knowledge of Ochi's connection to Sai, Hikaru was still unprepared for the other boy to lean over with a wide smirk. "Although you do remind me of my uncle," he said to Hikaru, making sure to match his gaze knowingly. "Your play styles are so alike, _Fujiwara_."

Nase's comment about the Meijin's and Hikaru's lack of family ties was acknowledged by the surrounding Go players – Fujiwara Sai looked too young to have a child Hikaru's age anyway – but Ochi's smirk never wavered even as he turned back to his food.

* * *

Hikaru defeated Fukui by only 1.5 moku.

At dinner that night, fear won out over curiosity – and so Hikaru remained silent on Ochi's revelation.

* * *

The moment Waya walked into the Go Institute and met the eyes of the few gathered around the bulletin board, he _knew_. Tsudakawa gave him a sympathetic smile but it fell a little short, although Takagi looked him in the eye with the kind of expression that suggested he start praying to a higher power.

Waya greeted them all the same with a confidence that was close to genuine, pulling off his shoes and walking over to the bulletin board. Sure enough, just what he'd expected was pinned up: _number 26_ **Waya Yoshitaka** and _number 7_ **Fujiwara Hikaru**.

"It was your loss the other day, wasn't it, Takagi-san?" Waya asked of the woman.

Takagi nodded. "By twelve moku," she recounted in irritation.

Tsudakawa and Chiba winced in sympathy. Waya stared at the board a bit longer, then moved toward the commons area to see who had arrived. It was the 14th day of matches, the halfway mark of the Pro Exams – after today, the zeal of competition spiked. Every loss felt like another nail hammered into the coffin; Waya wasn't doing too bad himself, with one loss (to Isumi) on his record so far. He'd managed to avoid the two monsters of the Exams, Ochi and Hikaru, until today's match.

Ochi was a wildcard to Waya. With no prior history and little known of him aside from the current rumor that he was related to Fujiwara Meijin, Waya was essentially going in blind against the younger boy. The best he could do was assume he played with a style similar to Fujiwara's and that he was strong enough to dominate both the preliminary exams and strike fear into his opponents in the current Pro Exams.

Hikaru was… Well, he was Hikaru. As far as Waya was concerned, to contrast Hikaru against Ochi – then whoever had said _'better the enemy you know than the one you don't'_ clearly never had Fujiwara Hikaru as an option. Likely the only reason Waya wasn't petrified by the idea of Ochi sharing genes with Fujiwara Meijin was because Hikaru was practically Fujiwara's spiritual successor in all the ways that actually mattered. Whatever similarities lay between Ochi and Fujiwara Meijin would pale in comparison to the hands of Fujiwara Hikaru.

Not to mention, Waya was still trying to act as a buffer between the desolate Isumi and furious Hikaru. The latter wasn't acting nearly as erratic as Waya had expected since the start of the Pro Exams, but he was half-convinced that was because he'd been successfully keeping them apart. Isumi wasn't exactly eager to converse with Hikaru at any length and although Hikaru hadn't exactly been physically or verbally threatening to Isumi, Waya just knew that was because Hikaru was waiting for them to have a goban between him and his newfound step-brother.

To Waya, both Isumi and Hikaru were precious friends. Even in this professional setting, in this highly competitive context – Waya didn't want to lose that friendship. He had utmost faith that they'd end up as professionals in the world of Go, even if this wasn't the year that they all passed.

Still, there was a vulnerability in Isumi that Waya wasn't comfortable in letting Hikaru attack. Whatever anger Hikaru held against his family had nothing to do with Isumi, and Waya wasn't just going to stand aside and watch as Hikaru tore the older boy apart. Isumi was gentle, and kind, and in a way that mattered now more than ever – _weak_.

So Waya kept them apart in this highly stressful time, even if it was just a matter of time until they met at a goban. He just didn't know what more he could do when their meeting was inevitable. Isumi seemed resigned to facing an angry Hikaru across the board but the older boy was always keeping his more volatile emotions pent up so that Waya couldn't even guess what Isumi felt about the entire issue.

And Waya had tried, over and over, to gauge Isumi's thoughts about Hikaru. Waya had gleaned enough from Hikaru to be able to discern the family drama, but Isumi had only validated that his stepfather was indeed Hikaru's father. Isumi said nothing about their current living situation, about how Isumi's family had reacted to Hikaru's presence or likewise. Hikaru had been angry; Isumi had been quiet.

Shirakawa may complain that Waya was easy to rile, and Morishita was always saying he had plenty to work on as both a Go player and a person – but that didn't mean that Waya didn't understand basic human emotions. Hikaru was angry because his family had been broken and his father had moved on; it must have felt like a betrayal, and Waya could understand that. Just as he could understand that Isumi was still too new to the idea of what it meant to have a family to depend on, and that he was so unsure of himself that he didn't want to risk even the smallest of grievances should he fail to live up to expectations.

Isumi was trapped in too delicate of a situation to do more than resign himself to his fate, likely wouldn't even have the strength to defend himself. Hikaru, in contrast, was far stronger than the older boy; he had a fire in his games that all who encountered him could see, and even if he was a bit standoffish in similar ways to Isumi, he adapted much quicker than the older insei. That was why Waya had seemingly taken Isumi's side on this – not because he thought that Hikaru was the villain in this (although Waya did believe Hikaru's persecution of Isumi was unjust), but because Waya was fairly sure Hikaru would survive the fallout of their confrontation. Isumi did not carry that same guarantee.

So it was understandable that he almost had a heart attack when he spotted both Hikaru and Isumi in the commons area, seated across from one another at the table closest to the door in utter silence. Ochi's presence at Hikaru's side was equally confusing to Waya, especially since the bespectacled boy was smirking at Isumi as if he'd heard the winning punchline to the world's meanest joke.

"I-Isumi-san! Hikaru!" Waya greeted haltingly, moving quickly to Isumi's side.

"Waya," Isumi acknowledged with a strained smile.

Hikaru rose a hand in greeting. "Yo, Waya."

Ochi glanced at him, smirk receding, but there was still clear amusement in his eyes. Waya felt a spike of irritation and resolutely refused to believe the rumors that the boy was in any way related to Fujiwara Meijin. There was no way his idol would have such vile relatives.

"You guys are early," Waya chuckled uneasily.

Isumi's response was hollow. "I wanted more time to prepare," he said.

Ochi laughed.

"Why are _you_ here?" Waya demanded of the younger boy.

"Well, you see, there's this event called the Pro Exams," Ochi answered with the kind of sarcasm meant to rile. "And I qualified to take part in it, so now I'm here sharing space with a guy who thinks staring at a table is proper 'preparation', an idiot who butts into everyone's business, and Hikaru."

Waya turned on the latter in irritation. "This guy is a friend of your's?"

"No," Hikaru and Ochi answered in perfect unison, although the latter was smirking in such a way that suggested he was enjoying an inside joke.

If Waya hadn't been so aggravated by Ochi's entire presence, or so consumed by the stress of the Exams coupled with the Isumi-Hikaru fallout, he might have noticed how uncomfortable the blond-banged boy was in Ochi's vicinity. Instead he just took that answer as a blatant lie, pulling Isumi up and away with a glare at the two boys.

"I can't believe he'd get along with a jerk like that," Waya grumbled as he tugged Isumi out of the room.

Isumi could have remarked that Waya didn't really know what kind of guy Hikaru actually was, but stopped himself because that was equal parts cruel and petty. "…they don't really get along, though," Isumi said instead. Just because he was so at odds with Hikaru didn't mean he was comfortable spreading lies about him, and Waya wasn't there when Ochi had taken a seat beside the top insei this morning.

When Hikaru had sat across from Isumi, he was quiet but uncompromising. He greeted the older boy as casually as he'd done before this whole mess, didn't even say a word out of line or make any sort of threats. They sat together as fellow insei and behaved accordingly, and even if Isumi could only hold Hikaru's eyes for a few seconds, it was still enough to manage a cordial conversation.

But when Ochi took a seat next to Hikaru, it was the closest Isumi had ever seen to that feral expression from before. Hikaru didn't get along with Ochi, that much was obvious – but that didn't stop Ochi from seeking out the boy's company.

Isumi had figured out why. Given that he was likely the only person in the entire Pro Exams who actually knew about Hikaru's relationship to Fujiwara Meijin, this meant he had the whole perspective on the entire affair. If, as the rumors claimed, Ochi was indeed related to Fujiwara Meijin, then that meant Hikaru could be considered Ochi's cousin as well.

It mollified Isumi a bit, to see Hikaru be made uncomfortable by the Fujiwara family. _Serves him right_ , had been Isumi's first thought before he'd recoiled at his own reaction. Still, Hikaru likely had his own issues to sort out with Fujiwara Meijin's side of the family; Isumi certainly couldn't see how it would be easy for him to be accepted by such a prestigious family, as they had no blood ties and Hikaru had no money or fame tied to his name.

But that was Hikaru's issue, not Isumi's.

Left by themselves in the commons area (aside from Matsuoka's depressed form in the corner), Ochi adjusted his glasses as he tried to meet Hikaru's eyes. "Waya is your opponent for today, isn't he?" he said.

Hikaru stiffened. He didn't know why Ochi had sought him out but was viciously reminded of the boy's relation to Sai with every look at those violet eyes.

Did Sai know Ochi was in the Pro Exams? It seemed obvious he would; even if his place as one of the top players in the league didn't guarantee he'd know everything about incoming pros, that didn't mean he wouldn't be aware of his own family's movements. Not to mention that according to Ochi himself, he'd been trained (however briefly) by Sai as well – so of course Sai would know.

So why had Sai not told Hikaru?

The best Hikaru could figure, it was that Ochi was meant to either by a watcher or a test. Sai's way of keeping an eye on Hikaru during the times he could not be there himself, and a means of gauging Hikaru's progress against different opponents. Maybe Ochi was meant to see if Hikaru was worthy enough of Sai's guardianship, was strong enough to carry the burden of being Sai's student.

So if Hikaru didn't measure up, then-

"You better not lose to him," Ochi stated. "I can't imagine how disappointed your teacher would be, if you lost to someone like Waya."

"I won't lose," Hikaru whispered.

* * *

The ignorance had been blissful while it lasted.

Self-imposed ignorance had, of course, come with its own risks – but Sai had (foolishly) misjudged those risks. He'd thought he'd been right to keep himself aloof from the Pro Exams, and it wasn't like he was blind to the entire thing – he'd known who the top players would be, seeing as Hikaru was one of them. Most of the insei class were part of that top, and Hikaru himself had never brought up anyone else aside from his classmates in that regard.

It would have been odd to ask about the competitors. Sai had never done so before and didn't want to risk anyone getting curious as to why he would suddenly be interested in this year's Pro Exams, as he hadn't shown the same initiative before, even during Touya Akira's time. When Sai went to the Institute for his own work, he did glance over the bulletin board – just to gauge Hikaru's progress, and he was sure not to loiter for too long. Seeing Hikaru's string of wins had put him at ease, and he moved right along with the knowledge that Hikaru was still doing incredibly well.

He'd never looked over the rest of the competition, which was why he'd never seen _number 22_ – **Ochi Kousuke**.

Ochi was not only taking part in the Pro Exams, he was excelling at it; a string of wins to match Hikaru's trailed by the whisper that he was related to Sai himself. No one at the Go Institute had brought up that last part to Sai, of course; Sai wouldn't have ever known about it had Saeki not mentioned something to Ashiwara, who in turned mentioned it to Ogata.

Ogata didn't know of Sai's family very well, so of course he never made the connection himself. He'd initially thought some punk was using Sai's name to intimidate the competition and brought it up to Sai like he thought it was some stupid joke. Sai's reaction – stiffening posture and wide eyes, soon eclipsed by cold rage – made him realize this was no prank.

Ochi Kousuke was the only child of Sai's cousin, Ochi Sousuke. Sai's aunt, the older sister of his father, had married into the Ochi line as a sort of political and corporate move to solidify ties to the prominent family. Sousuke was the result of that union, and the man was well-known for his management of the subsidiary companies comprised under the Fujiwara name even if he himself did not carry it. After all, just as Sai had always believed – the power lay in their bloodline, and Sousuke was too closely tied to the main branch of the Fujiwara family to escape its taint.

In turn, this was the same fate Ochi Kousuke would suffer. Being raised by Sousuke and under even the indirect tutelage of Sai's father would be enough to corrupt even the most stalwart of people, let alone a child. Whatever Kousuke was doing in the Go Pro Exams, Sai doubted it was benign.

If his father was just sending in an observer to look over Sai, he would have done it long ago. This meant that Sai was not the intended target of Fujiwara Mitsuo's reach and the only other person of interest to the Fujiwara clan would be Hikaru.

And that was _unacceptable_.

Sai excused himself from the observation room as soon as the clock had hit one in the afternoon. Although official league matches were never played during the Pro Exams, given that the Institute was focused on watching over possible new pros, there were still a few official game carried out that they wanted Sai to look over. In the closed-off Go community, Sai's presence assured even the lowest rank of professionals that they were involved in the promotion and running of their profession. Sai used to genuinely enjoy the time during the Pro Exams, as they let him focus on his own studying and dream about the future of Go with every day of competition.

Now his family was trying to weed their way into the world Sai had hoped they would never be a part of, and more than that – they were trying to get ahold of the one person Sai would absolutely never let go. To say he was angry would be an understatement.

The Pro Exams took place on the first floor, given that it had the largest room and easiest way of access to both the commons and the entrance. During the tournament, other Go pros would use the commons sparsely because the examinees were often around and they understood the high amount of pressure they faced. Some of the pros who mentored certain examinees would show up now and then to have a word with their students or check up on their progress, and the staff of the Institute always made sure to keep up on restocking beverages and snacks; he'd already heard some of the workers marvel at the fact that they'd had to call the company that oversaw their vending machines to restock earlier than usual because some of the examinees had already emptied out their current supply.

Sai himself had never interacted with those who took the Pro Exams before, wary of getting star-struck looks or feeling like he would put undue pressure on new professionals. Sai's own memory of the Pro Exam had been surreal; he'd felt pressure, of course, given the high stakes, but he'd also been elated to be a part of it. His fellow players had not really shared the sentiment.

As usual, examinees who were still playing took a break at this time for lunch. It looked as if most were still present, now moving out into the hall towards either the exit or the commons dependent on their choices for lunch. Sai was able to pick out the familiar faces of the crowd: Waya was heading towards the commons, looking both irritated and overwhelmed. Honda and a girl were chatting with as close to upbeat as an examinee could get, moving in the direction of the vending machines, as Fukui went into the commons looking pale. Some poor boy was on the verge of tears as he walked towards the commons, Nase at his side murmuring something to him that Sai supposed was meaningless comforts; the girl had always been so nice in the dreamverse, and going by the sweet smile she had on now, not much was changed in that respect.

He caught sight of Ochi moving through the crowd, notably unattached and seemingly indifferent to those around him. Sai's vision bled a little red, then, the same focus he'd normally use in a match filtering his vision so that all he could see was the source of his ire.

"Kousuke-kun," Sai called, voice chillingly sharp.

Ochi, true to his Fujiwara blood, looked up and _smiled_. For one horrible moment, all Sai could see was Sousuke in that look.

" _Uncle,"_ Ochi greeted him politely. Impeccable manners fit for the Fujiwara name were followed through in Ochi's bow, and the boy just looked pleasantly surprised by Sai's appearance.

Sai moved towards him, restraining the urge to grab the boy by the arm and drag him away. This was still Sai's workplace, after all; he couldn't be seen getting physical with a possible fellow professional. "We need to talk," Sai said, steel lining his voice.

Sai needn't have pushed further; Ochi agreed with elegant courtesy, moving along with the Meijin towards the stairs. Sai tried to flash welcoming smiles and polite greetings to the examinees they moved past, most silent and staring wide-eyed at them.

It was just Sai's misfortune that he never caught sight of Hikaru standing in the doorway of the exam room, watching as his guardian escorted Ochi away for a private chat. And just the same, it was Hikaru's luck that only Isumi saw the expression on Hikaru's face as he moved in the opposite direction, towards the bathroom.

Sai led Ochi up the second floor, to one of the unused study rooms where they could talk alone. Ochi shut the door behind him as he entered, turning to regard his second cousin with a look that promised he wouldn't be intimidated. Spitefully, Sai wondered that maybe Sousuke's wife had a secret affair with Kawai to produce such willful offspring. Then again, Sousuke was a hundred times worse than Kawai could ever hope to be.

"Why are you here?" Sai asked coldly.

Ochi wasn't fazed. "That's the second time I've been asked that today," he observed drily. "Do I really have to explain how the Pro Exams work to the Meijin?"

Sai stared down at the boy. "Kousuke-kun, _do not test me,"_ he said lowly.

The casual confidence Ochi had walked in with fled him at that moment, and he cringed under the man's cold violet eyes. Ochi may be related to the Fujiwara clan, but Sai was still the sole heir to the bloodline, trained by Mitsuo himself; no matter how much tutelage Mitsuo had given the boy, it would never come close to what Sai had suffered under both Mitsuo's and Saika's hands.

"I'm here because I want to be," Ochi finally answered, voice gone softer but no less sure. "Just because you stopped tutoring me after a week doesn't mean I stopped playing Go. I'm not your student, Uncle – but I will be your coworker."

Ice ran through Sai's veins, resentment clear in his eyes as he took in those words. "Did my father put you up to this?" he asked.

Ochi cocked his head. "No," he answered in careful consideration. "I pursued go out of my own interest, even if I was inspired by you. Although grandfather was…supportive, we could say, of my inclinations."

Ochi smiled again, boosted by Sai's ensuing silence. "He says professional Go is an honorable career choice. He looks forward to his family's progress," the boy recounted. "He's sure that we of the Fujiwara will dominate the field here as well."

"Skill in Go is not inherited," Sai snapped back.

"It's not," Ochi agreed. "At least not through blood. But who cares about the blood when you're so able to pick out the talented? And such a worthy successor to the Fujiwara name, too."

* * *

Isumi made sure to keep his steps as quiet as possible as he entered the bathroom, the near-silent swish of the opening door going unheard by the only other occupant. Isumi closed it silently behind him, taking in the vacant sink area and few open stalls with a sweeping glance.

_"It's okay, I understand… I understand… It's okay, I understand… I'm okay…"_

A quiet litany, occasionally broken with a choked sob. Isumi remained still in front of the closed door, unsure what to do with himself in the face of it. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd followed Hikaru to the bathroom in the first place – to assuage his curiosity? To see it for himself?

Hearing Hikaru now, Isumi didn't feel any better. If possible, he felt worse; Hikaru sounded so young in this moment and nothing like the boy who was dominating the Pro Exams with enviable strength. The sound of it was too pitiable to hate, leaving Isumi standing awkwardly by the door with no possible reason to be there.

A part of him wanted to go forward and comfort Hikaru. It was the innately kind part of himself, the one he used to listen to so carefully in the past that had earned him adoration from his family and neighbors and friends. But there was another part that felt he had no place here; he shouldn't be hearing this because it was a vulnerability that he had no right to witness.

He didn't enjoy the sound of Hikaru coming undone. Even if the boy had left his new family in disarray, Isumi couldn't muster enough that hate to actually enjoy Hikaru breaking apart. This was surprising to Isumi, but it wouldn't be to anyone else; everyone who knew Isumi, knew he was the kind of person who could never enjoy other people's suffering.

They were opponents now, in multiple ways – Isumi knew this. He understood that him and Hikaru were at complete odds with each other now; Isumi stood with the Shindou family and, most horribly, did not want to share them with the other boy. Isumi wanted the Shindou family to himself, selfishly wanted to keep their love and attention, to have a family that he could finally rely on and greet at home.

But, as he now realized, that didn't mean he hated Hikaru.

If Isumi had been stronger, if he'd believed in himself just enough to take that extra step – he could have gone over to the other boy. He could have called out to Hikaru – to talk, to make amends, to bridge an understanding. If he could have just been brave enough to conquer the fear in his heart, for just once to ignore the constant mantra of his mother's words that warned him of inviting unwanted attention or taking risks – he could have saved more than just himself in this moment.

But his mother's words were louder than his heart's, his insecurities deeper than his understanding, so instead he left the bathroom as quietly as he'd arrived.

* * *

Waya lost by three moku and vowed to grow stronger. No one noticed Hikaru's red-rimmed eyes.

* * *

Ogata made a habit of checking the bulletin board every day. If anyone noticed the ninth-dan's interest in the Pro Exams, they did not say anything; people greeted him as politely as ever, both professionals and examinees alike, and even if Ogata didn't smile, people seemed at ease with his presence. In the midst of an ever-changing world, Ogata's consistent contempt was a pillar of stability.

Ogata's eyes locked on to the only name that interested him this year: _number 7_ **Fujiwara Hikaru** , matched with _number 22_ **Ochi Kousuke**. Ogata may not have recognized that name from a week ago, but with Sai's reaction to it, he'd done his own digging; the boy was the son of the man who managed subsidiary branches of the Fujiwara zaibatsu. That was enough to clue Ogata in as to why Sai had reacted so violently to his presence.

"Ogata-sensei."

Ogata turned around at the greeting. A boy smaller than the already-petite Hikaru stood behind him, thin violet eyes framed by round glasses. Ogata placed a face to the name, having been following the Exams since the start and being forced to listen to Shirakawa's visceral observations daily.

"Good morning," Ochi said. He didn't smile, which Ogata was glad for; it would have put him in the odd position of not knowing how to greet a member of Sai's family. On one hand, they were still Sai's family and should be regarded with the courtesy he afforded to relatives of the people he cherished; on the other, Sai clearly hated almost all of the people he shared genes with. This kind of left Ogata in the lurch of how they should be addressed, since he wanted to make a good impression on Sai's family should the other man ever actually reciprocate his feelings.

"Good morning," Ogata responded.

"I saw someone interesting this morning," Ochi continued. Ogata didn't know why they had graduated from awkward greetings to casual conversation, but the boy was clearly not deterred by the ninth-dan's disdainful eyes. "He was loitering around outside the Institute."

Strange people didn't really "loiter" around the Go Institute, since they didn't hold anything very exotic in the building aside from some authentic kaya goban and an extensive kifu collection, but even then, you'd have to be a hardcore Go fan to be interested in any of that.

Ogata hadn't seen anyone when he'd entered, but he'd also arrived a few hours ago; no one for the Pro Exams had shown up yet, not even Hikaru. (The boy had also looked like death warmed over for the past week, but Ogata had attributed that to the stress of the Pro Exams.) Even now, there was still over an hour left before the Pro Exams began so there were examinees present.

"He looked an awful lot like Hikaru's biological father," Ochi stated plainly.

Ogata had frozen, staring at the boy. _How does he know-?!_

Satisfied with saying his piece, Ochi smirked at him and turned to go to the commons. Ogata was left stalling at the bulletin board, then shook himself and headed towards the entrance. There was a chance that Ochi was just tricking him, for whatever reason, but the risk of Hikaru's biological father actually being outside was too great to leave ignored.

Ogata didn't know the name of Hikaru's biological father. Sai had never mentioned it, even when he had been telling Ogata about Hikaru's venture to his grandparents' home. But Ogata did know that Hikaru's original name was Shindou, and that Hikaru's mother had never changed back to her maiden name – which left Ogata enough information to work with.

There were only a few passers-by on the streets at this time of day, as the area around the Go Institute never really saw heavy foot traffic. The only one that could be described as 'loitering' was the man looking out over the street, seemingly just taking a break in front of the building as he leaned against the stone wall acting as barrier between the street and the Institute.

Ogata had never seen Hikaru's parents, didn't know who the boy took after – would his father have the same big, green eyes? Would he smile that same small, genuine smile Hikaru had after learning a new recipe? Did he have the same long, thin fingers that Hikaru used to place stones on the goban? Did he make snarky comments when he was flustered, or hide behind a guileless smile when he felt awkward, or laugh at stupid things like the sight of Ogata making weird faces at a baby on the train?

How many scars did Hikaru's father carry, in both skin and soul? Was the number close to how many Hikaru had been forced to carry?

What kind of father abandons his own child?

"Are you Shindou-san?"

The man turned; Hikaru's eyes stared back at Ogata. That was enough of a positive identification for the ninth-dan, as Ogata moved forward to grab the other man by the front of his shirt and nearly slammed him into stone wall separating the Go Institute from the street. A couple of the passers-by made startled sounds, quickly moving away from the source of the violent actions.

"If I see your ass out here again, _I'll call the cops,"_ Ogata swore in low tones. "No one's going to look kindly on some old guy stalking a kid."

"I'm his father!" Shindou Masao cried out.

"No, you're fucking not," Ogata sneered. As far as Ogata was concerned, the only person who could claim such a right was currently eating breakfast with said boy. The man in front of him wasn't even worthy to breath the same air as Hikaru.

From the entrance of the Go Institute and unseen to the two men nearby, Isumi watched on with wide eyes.

* * *

**OMAKE**

_(The beginning of Shirakawa Michio and Honda Toshinori)_

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck!" Honda Satoshi cursed, grinding the cigarette butt into the table. The men around the table snickered at him, amused by his second consecutive loss in their mahjong game; his earnings from work for the week were already dwindling down to nothing. At the rate he was going, they'd have to live off of box ramen for the next week. _Again_.

"Toshinori, go buy some beer!" Satoshi ordered, throwing some money in his son's direction.

 _Next two weeks,_ Toshinori amended internally. "I'm not old enough to buy alcohol," he reminded his father. He was only thirteen, not even old enough to pretend to be close to the legal age. Why did his dad keep forgetting that?

"I doubt that little shit who works at the _konbini_ will stop you," his father said with a sneer. "You're as ugly as your fucking mom. Maybe he'll close his eyes when you go up to the counter."

Toshinori collected the money from the floor silently, biting back a sarcastic comment. His father wasn't the physical sort – that was his mom, even if all she really did was throw things in his general direction when angered – but he wasn't going to risk riling his father too much while his buddies were present. Better to just shut up and go. He could kill time outside, then come back later after the gamblers were gone and say no one would sell him the beer. It wouldn't be the first time.

He closed the door on the men's raucous laughter, the sound thankfully muffled by the wood and plaster. Toshinori took a moment to sigh, leaning back against the door to his family's apartment and taking in the fresh air. The whole apartment building held that same smell that suggested every single occupant smoked more than they ate, and Toshinori was half-convinced that the grey color of the wallpaper was because of all the chemicals in the air.

Entering the stairwall, the boy paused at the sight of the slumped figure laying along the steps. Even for the disgusting bunch that made up his dad's gambling buddies, he'd never encountered an actual crime before – Toshinori wasn't certain what to make of a body on the stairs.

A loud snore interrupted his frenzied thoughts, which were currently circling on what he'd tell the cops during his witness testimony.

"Just some drunk," he grumbled, moving forward. The man was laying horizontal, though, blocking the length of the stairwell so that it was impossible to go further without risking breaking his head open. Toshinori glared down at the man; his blue suit was crumpled from his position, curly hair in disarray and face half-hidden under one arm. He looked a lot more clean-cut than the men Toshinori was used to seeing in his home, but a drunk was a drunk.

"Hey, old man," Toshinori called out in annoyance. "Move outta the way. You're blocking the whole stairway."

The man's eyes cracked open with a groan and a string of curses.

"Are you gonna move or not?" Toshinori asked after a minute, when the man didn't do more than rub his face.

"Why are you in my apartment?" the man asked in confusion.

Toshinori blinked. "...this is the stairwell," he answered blandly.

"…huh. So it is," the man observed, still reclined on said steps.

_"Move already!"_

**X**

The next time Toshinori saw the drunk, the man had managed to make it as far as their floor, leaned against the door of the apartment next to the Honda's. He was snoring away, legs outstretched and back to the door.

"Oi, old man," Toshinori lightly kicked him in the leg. "You can't sleep outside some poor guy's home."

The drunk slowly woke, as he always did when called on. Toshinori wondered if he'd ever been robbed by any of their neighbors before, since he just seemed so vulnerable passed out.

"Brat," the man grumbled once he caught sight of the boy's face. "I can sleep where ever I want. This is my apartment."

Toshinori stared at him. To be fair, he'd never actually seen his neighbor – but he'd heard from the old bat down the hall that the man who lived next to his family was a professional Go player. He'd assumed he would be someone with a more studious personality.

"No, this is the hallway," Toshinori said.

"Close enough," the man returned.

Toshinori rolled his eyes, turning to leave. _Why do I even bother?_

His eyes caught on the nameplate as he passed: Shirakawa.

**X**

The thudding on the door was what woke him up, but it was the familiar voice that had Toshinori out of bed and opening the front door. Sure enough, his neighbor was there, holding his keys in one hand and swaying slightly. Shirakawa stared at him for a long moment, then turned hazy eyes to the nameplate next to the now-open door.

"No wonder these wouldn't work," the man complained, mostly to himself, as he stared down at his keys.

Toshinori snorted. "At least you managed to get this far," the teen grumbled, taking the go player by the arm and forcefully escorting him the five steps to his own home. He took the keys from the lax grip, opening the door with the key that looked most like his own, and pushed the man into the correct apartment.

"…thanks," Shirakawa said, taking his keys back. If he hadn't already been so out of it, Toshinori thought he may have even gotten a smile.

His neighbor promptly killed that delusion by flicking him in the forehead. "Don't open the door to strangers, brat! What if I was some crazed murderer?"

"Oh shut up! You're just a crazed drunk!"

**X**

The next time Shirakawa came knocking on the Honda family's door, he was mercifully sober and even dressed in a suit. Both of Honda's parents weren't home yet; his mom frequented pachinko parlors after work and his dad was probably at another friend's place gambling. The boy had just been finishing off another cup of ramen and silently resigning himself to dying early because of his poor diet.

As soon as Toshinori opened the door, Shirakawa shoved a bag into his chest. "This is for your help the other day," was the explanation.

Toshinori took it, opening the proffered item with wide eyes. In the bag were an assortment of candies and snacks, too large a number and variety of them to count. Toshinori recognized most of them, as if Shirakawa had just gone to convenience store and bought every available sweet that he could see.

"…wow, you really don't have much experience with kids," Toshinori remarked. Any adult that spent time with kids would never give one access to so much free candy, it invited too many health problems and headaches.

Shirakawa flicked him in the forehead again.

**X**

His grandmother sent over a box of fresh apples, a gift to their family that went ignored by both his parents. Toshinori liked apples well enough, especially these super sweet ones, but there were too many and he didn't want his grandmother's gift to go to waste.

This led him to putting half the batch into a bag and knocking on Shirakawa's door. The man answered with a raised eyebrow, blatant confusion eclipsing his usual derisive expression.

"Grandma sent too many," Toshinori explained. "They're really good."

"Your parents don't want them?" Shirakawa asked unsurely.

"They don't like fruits," Toshinori said. It wasn't really a lie – his parents didn't really like anything healthy, after all.

"Thanks, then," the man replied. He stood in his doorway for a moment; Toshinori idly wondered if this was the first time he'd ever been given a gift before. With such a sour attitude, the idea wouldn't surprise him. He'd just turned to leave when Shirakawa spoke again, still leaning against his open doorway.

"Hey, brat. Do you want to learn how to play Go?"

**X**

"Oi oi, do you _want_ to die?" Shirakawa groaned, pinching Toshinori lightly on the hand when he tried to place his next move on the goban.

"Do all Go players abuse their students like this?" Toshinori complained, rubbing his hand with an exaggerated frown.

"You put that stone there, you'll lose your advantage in the upper right corner," Shirakawa pointed out. "Think before you play!"

Shirakawa's apartment was cleaner than the Honda's, with less furniture given that the man was its sole occupant. A simple 2LDK, one room for Shirakawa's bedroom and the other his (as Toshinori dubbed) "Go room." The living room comprised of a small TV set on an equally modest entertainment center, a couch set in front and the doors to the balcony next to that. It was partly fused with the dining area and kitchen, but the small table Shirakawa had was meant for only two.

"Michio-saaaan, when's dinner?" Toshinori asked. He'd been going to Shirakawa's place for over a year now, having grown so comfortable with the older man that he likely spent more time in the Go player's home than his own.

This was an easy feat, considering that the man was always amiable to cooking for him ("It's cheaper and healthier. You'll die before you hit 30 if you keep eating ramen all day, every day!") and didn't seem to mind answering the questions Toshinori had about homework and the like. He even stressed studying to the boy and was vastly irritated whenever Toshinori brushed his school assignments off in favor of playing with his friends at the arcade or ditching class.

Not to mention that Toshinori just generally liked spending time with the man. Shirakawa was abrasive and mean-spirited, often calling him "brat" or rough-housing him, even sometimes returning home with either a killer hangover or smelling like alcohol. The man was gay, had told Toshinori straight to his face during one of their casual games of shidougo, all while nursing another hangover. Toshinori only had enough time to gape at the man before Shirakawa killed his budding shape, and afterwards couldn't get a word in edgewise as the man ranted about his most dire mistakes in the game.

But Shirakawa never insulted him, neither his looks nor his intelligence; he taught him how to play Go and, most importantly, taught him to love playing it; he dragged an anxious Toshinori to a study group under Morishita; he cooked him meals while berating his sweet tooth; he listened to Toshinori, even about things like his grades or his crush on Mayumi-chan in class 2-C; _he came home_.

"Toshinori," Shirakawa started, over a plate of _omurice_. "Have you thought about becoming an insei?"

He had, but not with any real depth. After so much time spent with Shirakawa and his circle of hardcore Go pros, it was hard not to pick up on a passion for the game; but Toshinori still had to work up the courage to admit to his parents that he wanted to pursue Go for more than just entertainment purposes.

"Yeah, kinda," the boy admitted.

The smile Shirakawa gave him was beautiful.

"Wonderful! I'll be the insei instructor starting next year, so I can't wait to see you in class!"

On second thought, that smile was _terrifying_.

* * *

 **A/N** : I wonder if my underlying motive for this story is like _"let's make every Go player a Dad~!"_ Surprisingly, I had to split the Pro Exams into two chapters, so the next chapter should be out relatively quick.

Don't worry if you don't recognize a lot of the names of the non-canon characters in the Pro Exams. I was just having a lot of fun listing out the 28 examinees, assigning them numbers, matching them up... I created a game calendar and everything... Because I spend my time wisely. ┐('～`；)┌

 _Note 1)_   **Ogata's Bentou** : If you really think that Ogata's dad did not make him the cheesiest lunches ever, up to and including heartfelt messages either spelled out with foodstuffs or written in notes, then you would be dead wrong.

Please **_drop a comment_** , if you'd be so kind~ ;)


	23. The Hanging Noose

  
**A/N** : Thank you for the comments, everyone! I will try to reply in  a timely manner, but I just got a new job so I'm a bit drained for now. (๑╹o╹)  
**Disclaimer** : I do not own _Hikaru no Go_.

**Pairings** : Ditto the last.

 

**Warnings** : Ditto the last.

* * *

**Chapter 21**  

_The Hanging Noose_  

* * *

 

 “You made all this, Hikaru?” Sai asked with genuine cheer, looking over their breakfast in genuine adoration. It was clear Ogata’s cooking lessons were coming along nicely where Sai’s charge was concerned: they each had broiled salmon cutlet, a bowl of miso soup, two small rolls of sweet egg, a cup of rice, an assortment of pickled vegetables, and even a thick cut of tofu sprinkled with green onion. “It looks lovely!”

“Seiji-san prefers traditional Japanese breakfasts,” Hikaru said a bit defensively. He wouldn’t have minded making pancakes or just shoving a couple onigiri down his throat, but the ninth-dan was really big on eating the three square meals a day.

Sai laughed. “At least he’s sparing us from natto,” he pointed out.

Both males made disgusted faces at the idea.

It was already the 19th day of matches, and up to this point – Hikaru was undefeated. Ogata had dutifully been reporting back the results with every match, keeping Sai updated so that the Meijin didn’t have to loiter around the bulletin board and cause another commotion.

Even now, Sai wasn’t sure what were the repercussions of confronting Ochi so publicly. Of course, Sai had taken the boy away so that they could talk in private, but there had been enough examinees around to see that Sai and Ochi had some kind of relationship. Sai had anticipated more rumors going around the Institute, giving more credence to the idea that Ochi shared a deeper relationship with the resident Meijin.

And the rumors had been spawned, of course; Shirakawa had been pestered by some of his entered insei and then went to Ogata for clarification, and even the Honinbou had cackled something about the upcoming generation when Sai had run into him in the halls. Sai had wanted to agree with Kuwabara about his excitement for the incoming Pros, but felt it better to show some restraint so that he didn't inadvertently add any more gasoline to the blaze he'd already created.

 Sai didn’t much care what people thought of his family connection to Ochi. If they had enough initiative, they could look up their family line on the web; as it was, Sai just told Ogata that though they’re family, he had little to do with Ochi personally, especially in terms of Go. Whoever the boy had learned from, it wasn’t Sai.

 The rumors would have been enough to rouse anyone’s curiosity, but it wasn’t as if Ochi was the type to explain himself so explicitly to strangers; if anything, Sai was half-convinced the boy would purposely distort the truth just for his own amusement. It had to be a trait he’d inherited from his father.

 It was strange though – Hikaru had never brought it up. Optimistically speaking, Hikaru may just be so focused on the Pro Exams that the rumors circling around the Go Institute wouldn’t have made it to him yet. Perhaps the group of examinees were so secularized and under so much pressure that they didn’t want to focus too much on the affairs of a profession they hadn’t quite cracked yet.

 This was the most optimistic reason as to why Hikaru had yet to say anything. But if Hikaru had indeed heard the rumors but still not approached Sai to ask for clarification, then that’s where the real trouble started. Either Hikaru just didn’t care – a likely idea as well, considering he’d never been that curious about Sai’s parents or other family – or if he did care, then he was too scared to ask.

 Sai wasn’t sure which answer he’d prefer.

 Just in case, it would be best for Sai to bring up Ochi himself. To reassure Hikaru again that he would be happy with whatever results the Pro Exams yielded, that passing them wasn’t an absolute necessity. To explain how Ochi and him sharing blood didn’t mean Sai would suddenly favor the young boy over Hikaru, explain a bit of his own family tree to Hikaru since he was a part of it now.

 Explaining Ochi to Hikaru, though, meant explaining Sai’s own relation to Sousuke and why he could no longer stand his own cousin. Explaining the family tree meant explaining his father’s cruelty, his mother’s suicide, his uncle’s attempt to save him and what he was trying to save Sai from. A whole world would be opened up to Hikaru if Sai did that, but that wasn’t the world and life Sai had wanted to give him; he wanted Hikaru safe, and happy, and loved. The Fujiwara family would corrupt every single aspect of those wishes, just as they had done to Sai.

 But if Sai left it unmentioned, and Hikaru found out about Ochi – who knows what he’d think?

 “You can leave the dishes in the sink, I’ll wash up,” Sai said.

 Hikaru nodded, going to the bathroom to quickly brush his teeth. Sai looked at the clock; almost 8:30 AM, leaving Hikaru with just over an hour to make the otherwise short commute to the Institute. Without a ride from Ogata, though, Hikaru would need the time for the early morning rush hour.

 Hikaru returned from the bathroom, moving towards the entrance. Sai had already emerged from the kitchen, coming up behind the boy just as Hikaru finished pulling on his shoes. Ogata’s amused observation that Hikaru must be such a startling presence in the Pro Exams because of his vibrantly-colored wardrobe drifted through Sai’s mind as he took in his charge's attire, giving Sai a supreme sense of comfort.

 Hikaru deserved to be acknowledged. The boy had worked so hard to get to where he was today, was growing into someone who was more than what his own mother had painted him to be. To Sai, everything about Hikaru was so utterly endearing and precious, from the colors he wore to the words he spoke, from the strands of his hair to the tips of his fingers and toes.

 “Hikaru…”

 Hikaru turned, accepting the bentou handed to him with a fond smile. Ogata had had a similar look as he made it this morning, although Sai wasn’t privy to whatever joke the two males had between them involving Hikaru’s lunches. The one time he’d brought it up, Hikaru had blushed and stammered an unintelligible response before Ogata intervened, laughing to himself as he waved off Sai’s query. Sai quietly resolved to just let them keep their inside joke to themselves.

 Looking into those cautious green eyes, Sai knew he should say something now. Tell Hikaru about his relation to Ochi Kousuke, about how little contact they really had, maybe even some of the reasons why Sai interacted so sparsely with his own family members. Even with rush hour, Hikaru still had plenty of time to get to the Go Institute. _But then he’d be thinking about it all day,_ Sai thought, too afraid to acknowledge the true reasons behind his hesitance. _No matter how much I may reassure him, he would still think about it._

 But it would be worse for Hikaru to discover the truth on his own. There were so many reasons that Sai had to approach this now. To stave off future disasters, to assure Hikaru that his love was without condition, to push the idea that it wasn’t blood that would make them family…

 “Hikaru,” Sai said. “Stay safe on the way there. Message me when you reach the Go Institute.”

 Hikaru rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah… Geez, you act like this is my first time using the subway.”

 “Sorry,” Sai chuckled.

 Hikaru waved it off absently, “Well, I’m off-”

 “Hikaru.”

 The boy stopped, turning curious eyes to Sai. The man gazed back evenly, quiet for a moment as he took in the openness in those familiar green eyes. Hikaru was leaving their home, going to work for something that he himself wanted, was excelling with what Sai had taught him.

 Hikaru was _here_ with _him_.

 “I’m proud of you,” Sai said.

 Hikaru stared at him with those same wide eyes Sai had seen over and over again, soon turning away to hide his telltale blush.

  _Just a bit longer_ , Sai thought. _I’ll tell him when the Exams are over, then…_

 The Fujiwara could wait just a while longer.

* * *

 

"You look sicker than Fuku!"

There was a definite tone of awe in Nase's voice as she looked at him, and Isumi could understand that; these days, Fukui looked like the living dead. No one probably thought it could get worse. Of course, Nase's enthusiasm and clear delight let Isumi know that she was the last person he could go to for comfort. 

"Did you need something, Nase?" Isumi asked kindly. He wasn't really in the right state of mind to be offering anybody anything, but it wasn't like he could just brush the girl off - what kind of horrible impression would that leave?

Nase just cocked her head, glancing from him and back over to the bulletin board. "Do I always have to need something to talk to you?" she asked, and then continued before he could respond. "But really, what's up? Your opponent today is Uchida - not exactly a real threat."

Nase already knew that from experience, having already chewed that particular opponent up and spit her back out. Isumi mused rather absently that Uchida must be having a really tough time at the moment, the poor girl. 

"It's nothing, just overall stress," Isumi waved off her concern. 

"From the Exams or from Waya's exclusive stalking?" Nase countered cheerfully.

Isumi started, unprepared for her to bring up Waya's almost defensive behavior. While it was true he'd always felt closer to Waya, the other boy had recently become almost obsessive in keeping him apart from the others. Isumi had his hands full with his family and the Pro Exams, so he hadn't exactly been able to analyze Waya's strange behavior and was too grateful for it besides. Having it thrown in his face by Nase, though, felt a bit unpleasant and made him feel guilty all over again.

"Or does it have to do with whatever is going on between you and Hikaru?"

At that, Isumi outright flinched.

Nase was staring at him, smile no longer on her lips as she gave him a considerate look. There was nothing judgmental in her gaze but Isumi didn't feel comfortable anyway. He didn't like having his personal issues exposed like this, hated addressing them aloud even more. 

"Nase," he warned. "That isn't any of your business."

Isumi turned, intent on getting away from her. The problem with Nase was that even if someone drew the line before her, she'd dance right over it without a backwards glance. Isumi, whose world consisted of nothing but paths forged out of a myriad of red lines, could never understand that about her and currently didn't have the energy to keep up pretending he did.

"Don't you ever get tired of being scared all the time, Isumi?" Nase asked before he could leave. "Sometimes you're just so pitiful."

Isumi didn't respond - realizing he couldn't without lying.

* * *

Hikaru arrived at the Institute with only about 20 minutes to spare before matches began. To his surprise, Ogata was waiting outside the gate of the Institute, looking as intimidating as ever as he attempted to puff on his cigarette. Due to the high winds, Hikaru didn't know why the man bothered - it would certainly be a lot easier to smoke inside.

"What are you, some gargoyle meant to scare passers-by?" Hikaru greeted him teasingly. 

Ogata rolled his eyes. "And yet idiots keep going through these doors," the man grunted in response. 

Hikaru grinned, used to Ogata's gruff demeanor. The man flung out insults as often as he breathed, so Hikaru already knew there wasn't any real ire to his words. 

"You're matched with Ochi today," Ogata said before Hikaru could continue on his way. 

The boy faltered in his steps but pulled himself back together remarkably well for such short-notice. Hikaru realized he brought it on himself this time; he was usually early on match days, but today Sai had wanted to eat breakfast with him alone and Hikaru did not have the heart to deny his guardian that.

"Pity I didn't bring him flowers," Hikaru threw out with a jeering smile. "Sometimes I'm just an awful date."

Hikaru's poor emulation of his usual derisive humor was taken in with only one inscrutable glance from the ninth-dan. Hikaru waited, unsure what exactly the man wanted from him - did he simply want to let Hikaru know about his upcoming match, or was he trying to insinuate something about being matched with Ochi? 

Hikaru could only guess at the reasons. If it had been Sai to say it, then surely it would be belied by the idea that Hikaru better not lose to Ochi, or he'll lose some aspect of his worth in being unable to learn fast enough from his mentor. From Ogata himself, though, Hikaru didn't know what the man was looking for - Hikaru wasn't his student in Go, and outside of practice games, Ogata didn't do more than a visceral critique every now and then. 

"Do you know what happens if you fail to pass the Pro Exams?" Ogata asked. 

Hikaru stilled completely, air choking in his lungs. It felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been thrown at him at Ogata's point-blank question. Why was the man always _attack, attack, attack?_

"...I don't become a Pro," Hikaru answered quietly.

"Yes," Ogata nodded. "If you don't pass, then you don't become a Pro this time. Instead, you will go back to your insei class. You will compete in practice matches under that maniac, and get ranked along with your other friends, and it will be like that over and over again for another year."

The man put out his cigarette under his heel, picking up the butt and putting it away. "Then, assuming you don't have to participate in the Preliminary examinations, you get to enter the Pro Exams again," Ogata stated. "And if you fail that time, then you can just do it all over again, up until you're 18 years of age. At that point, you will have to enter the preliminary examinations if you haven't made Pro yet."

Hikaru stared at him, green eyes wide.

Ogata matched his eyes calmly. "Hikaru, the worst that can happen here is that you will have to go back to studying under Shirakawa. Even if you fail the next hundred times, as long as this is what you want to do - Sai will support you. Even if you suddenly decide to drop Go because of a newfound passion for _soccer_ , he will support you." The mental image was so hilarious, Ogata would support him too.  "If it's between your happiness and Go, Sai would choose you in a heartbeat."

Which was, perhaps, the most astonishing thing - Sai loved Go so much that Ogata didn't think his love for it would ever lose out to anything else. Ogata felt much the same way, of course, and it was a trait shared amongst the Go elite. But Ogata knew, the same way he knew that Hikaru wasn't holding up nearly as well as he let on, that Sai would choose the child over Go if it ever came down to it. Sai would fight for Go; he would _kill_ for Hikaru.

There was some small comfort in knowing, Ogata thought, that Sai was capable of developing such strong attachments. 

"What in the world are you two doing?" 

The unexpected interjection startled both males, Ogata looking over Hikaru's head to see Shirakawa approaching with a yawning Honda at his heels. Although the insei instructor had gone for something close to a scandalized tone, it was clear from the smile on his lips that he was entertained. Ogata's eye twitched in irritation, but then again - he probably should have known better than to have a heart to heart with Hikaru out in the street.

"Gossiping," Ogata replied boredly. Hikaru remained conspicuously silent.

Before Shirakawa could respond to that - and Ogata didn't think he was imagining the shark teeth in the man's smile - Honda barreled forward with a large grin. "Come on, Hikaru-kun!" he exclaimed. "Let's go see which opponent you're going to strike fear into the heart of today!"

Shirakawa rolled his eyes at the boy's antics, although Ogata moved aside as Honda basically lead Hikaru back into the Institute, chattering the entire time. "-Eh? Ochi today, huh? Have fun~ He totally kicked my ass the other day-"

Both men watched the boys go with vague looks of fond exasperation, cutting a sharp mirror image of each other that they would deny to their dying breath.

"You really know how to pick 'em," Ogata said after a moment.

Shirakawa snorted. "At least mine isn't wearing the pink bomber jacket," he retorted.

"....it's salmon pink," Ogata corrected, having been the one to buy the jacket for Hikaru in the first place.

Shirakawa burst out laughing.

Hikaru glanced back just as the front doors to the Institute shut behind him, looking mildly perturbed. "What's that all about?" he asked, disconcerted by the insei instructor's laughter trailing their steps.

"When it comes down to it, I really don't wanna know," Honda admitted, pulling off his shoes. Together, they checked the bulletin board - Hikaru to confirm his board, Honda to see his opponent - and then headed towards the commons area, given that they still had another 5 minutes before matches began. Honda, upon realizing he was matched with Nase, started to look distinctly queasy.

The commons was mostly populated by the other examinees at this point. Tsudakawa, who had somehow devolved into a ball of spite at some point after her 16th match, was glaring venomously into her canned coffee drink. Ochi was flipping through a book, not giving much of anyone the time of day. Waya was with Isumi in the far corner by the windows, having a hushed conversation that the older boy didn't even seem to be hearing. Fukui and Nase were seated closer to the door, the girl looking up at their entrance.

"And in one corner," Nase began thunderously, voice going lower in a stereotypical-announcer tone. "We have the Terror of the Preliminaries, _Ochiiiii!_ With his horn-rimmed glasses and equally sharp attacks on the board, he's become one of the most feared opponents this round of Exams!"

"These are _Bulgari_ glasses," Ochi interjected smoothly.

Nase would not be stopped. "And in the other corner, we have the breakout star of the insei class - Fujiwara _Hikaruuuu!_ Don't let his fashion fool you - he's a monster on the goban and is currently dominating the Exams with _zero losses_ to his record!"

Hikaru suddenly underwent a pale flushing at the reminder of his game record. "...god damn it, Nase, I just calmed him down," Honda complained.

Nase laughed, unrepentant. Ikeshita grumbled something into the tabletop, sitting next to Fukui but not even bothering to raise his head or hand in greeting.  

"By the way, Honda-kun, ready to get crushed by me?" Nase asked brightly. 

Honda's retort - which would have been lined with both exasperation and anxiety - was cut off by the administration calling everyone to the game room to begin their matches. Nase sprung up, grabbing both Honda and Hikaru by the arms to drag in the right direction, everyone else following behind at a more sedate pace. 

Hikaru took his seat at the assigned goban, glancing up as he set aside his goke to look at his opponent. Ochi was as fluid in his movements as ever; he assumed seiza with practiced ease as he copied Hikaru's movements. Despite being a full head shorter than Hikaru's already pitiful frame, Ochi still held that noble bearing so often seen among those who knew they had power.

Ochi matched Hikaru's eyes, violet on vivid green. 

"Play at your best today. He'll want to see this match."

* * *

 

The cameras positioned in the room where the Pro Exams took place were not meant to do much more than just survey the occupants, more of a 'make sure they aren't destroying things' utilization than game recorder. This made it difficult for others to gauge matches without being in the same room, which usually wasn't much of an issue until today.

Because today, Ogata _wanted_ to watch the matches.

Hikaru would, naturally, replay any games he had played later at home for further study. But there was a difference in seeing Hikaru discuss where he knew he could've done better, and seeing his actual plays as he naturally responded to his opponent. The kind of face Hikaru put on during an official match, how he reacted to an opponent he may not have played before, how he actually fared in a tournament setting... These were the things Ogata was interested in witnessing. And if it was difficult for him to restrain himself from just hovering over Hikaru's board, he could only imagine what Sai was going through.

For the most part, Pros did not go in to observe matches during the Pro Exams, leery of putting extra stress on the examinees and not wanting to disrupt anyone's concentration. It was an unwritten rule more than anything, so it wasn't like Ogata had to follow it, but the reaction his peers would have to him so avidly watching a Pro Exam match would be too bothersome to deal with afterwards. 

"Just go inside and watch his match already," Shirakawa muttered, standing beside Ogata in the entrance hall. "Just looking at that disgusting expression on your face is making me sick."

Ogata sneered at him. "Looking at your face always sickens me and yet here we are," he replied.

"Oh, _catty_ _today_ , aren't we! Did Fujiwara-sensei neglect to give you a morning bl-"

Shirakawa was abruptly cut off by Ogata stomping on his foot. This was fortunate, considering Sai had just entered and was making his way towards the pair with a tight smile. The man always came late nowadays; Ogata speculated he was trying to make sure no one could connect him to Hikaru yet, so he scheduled himself for anything Go-related only after the Pro Exams had gone underway.

"Who is he matched with today?" Sai asked breathlessly, looking over the match listing with eager eyes. 

"Ochi," Shirakawa and Ogata responded in unison.

Sai's expression crumbled, replaced by one far more frightening. Shirakawa edged a bit further away at the reaction, clearly unprepared.

"You're later than usual this morning," Ogata observed, not willing to let Sai wallow on the unfavorable topic. The man _really_ hated his own relatives.

"I was finalizing some documents," Sai said. "I bought a house."

Both men stared at the Meijin, one with a look of blatant shock and the other with the bored indifference resulting from constant exposure. After Sai had got it into his head to just pick up a child and adopt him, there wasn't much left Ogata could get shocked over at this point.

"Where's the house?" Ogata asked.

"About a 20-minute bus ride away. It seemed prudent to move to a location closer to the Institute if we're both going to be working here," Sai said. "It's a 4LDK. This way I can finally have a guest room. And a room for Go!"

_Why does a single father need such a large home?_ Ogata mused to himself. His family had gotten along just fine with a 2DK apartment, but then again - Sai was Sai. At least Ogata would have more room in the kitchen and even a bed to stay in now. Deciding to take the path of least resistance, especially in the face of Shirakawa's shocked silence, the ninth-dan soldiered on. He just let the incredulous situation roll right off his shoulders. "When are you moving?" 

"Week after next, near the end of the Exams," Sai replied.

Ogata snorted. "Most parents just buy their kids good food after exams, you know," he pointed out with a small smile.

Sai looked alarmed. "Should I buy sushi? It didn't even occur to me... I thought I could cook something instead, you know, make a homemade meal..."

Ogata's amusement was clear. "I think you should rephrase that, possibly as 'I had not planned on buying food or cooking it, because I love my student and don't want him to get food poisoning. Instead I will pitifully beg Seiji to cook our meal since the last time I tried to cook dinner, the herb rack caught fire and I had to explain to the apartment manager that I just suck that badly-"

Sai, blushing from both embarrassment and guilt, stammered incoherently for a moment before turning on his heel and striding away towards the elevator with a stark blush. Ogata and Shirakawa watched him go, the former with a wide smirk. 

Shirakawa covered his face with one hand. "I cannot believe I am always around to see this. It's so wrong... Where is the justice?"

"Shut up. And what are you talking about?" Ogata sneered back.

"I can't believe it took a single father to domesticate you. Oh my god, you _do_ have a hair fetish!"

_"Shut up."_

* * *

 

Ochi Kousuke grew up alone. Or maybe that wasn't quite right - he was raised by women that changed every other week, locked in a room surrounded by toys that broke at about that same rate, and interacted with his peers in spaces limited by heritage and wealth. Kousuke did not grow up alone; he grew up _isolated_.

Kousuke reckoned his mother loved him, in that same aloof way those born high in the hierarchy loved their heirs. She would offer him the best in the world, from education to luxury, and all she would ask of him is that he do their name proud. _Pride_ was the anthem of Ochi Shouko, and to his dying breath, Kousuke will never admit to his mother that his father couldn't have cared less about their name.

It was better that his mother lived none the wiser. She had her career, and her trips around the world, and her networking and politics and luxuries. In all of that, she did not have time to mediate between the man she had married and the son she had borne for their line. And if she _did_ know what her husband was really like, what lessons her son had really been put through - then all the better that Kousuke never bring it up so that _he himself_  could live none the wiser.

Those of the Fujiwara lived in a dream world because reality was too close to a nightmare to accept.

Hikaru's existence was interesting, because it went against everything their little bubble of the world vouched. Hikaru did not share their blood, their ideals, their views - he barely shared their name. There was no Fujiwara heiress to marry him to, no family or money to his name, nothing in the way that any normal family of their stature would have accepted an outsider for. All Hikaru had was Fujiwara Sai's devotion - and, shockingly, _that was all it took._

Initially, Kousuke had thought him a passing fancy for the Fujiwara line's strangest member. They all kept pets, some more often than others; his great-uncle would parade them out every now and then before they disappeared, one trash bag at a time. His father kept pets too, but not the kind you could keep at home or bring out into the public eye. Kousuke did not because the idea of pets so disgusted him now that the one time his mother had bought him a puppy, he'd locked himself in the bathroom and refused to leave if she didn't get rid of it. Sai had never been the type for pets either, as much as Kousuke knew; anyone raised under Fujiwara Mitsuo would not be unless they shared the man's grotesque personality. 

Hikaru didn't disappear. Instead he got their last name, and became an insei, and tried for a career in professional Go. It was so ridiculously left-field, even his great-uncle had been slow to act. Once the adoption had been finalized and the boy added to their family registry, that's when things for the Fujiwara family really started to get rolling - because the former Shindou Hikaru had a background too dirty to leave alone and too wild to ignore. 

So they started to tear it out, root by clinging root. Kousuke wasn't a part of that, not yet; he still had school and now Go. But he'd been told of the circumstances so that he'd know what and who to look out for, knew enough to judge himself in his interactions and the fallout of Hikaru's interactions. 

Kousuke had never had a cousin his own age before. It was an enlightening experience. For one, Hikaru didn't seem to like him - but he didn't chase him away or ask for anything that he knew Kousuke could give him. He listened to what Kousuke had to say no matter how much it pained him to hear, and didn't call him cruel things. Family was not an exercise in liking someone; it was an exercise in _toleration_ , because one was willing to put up with more for family. 

 

So even when Hikaru, who had trouble looking him in the eye on a good day, ruthlessly cut through his shapes on the board, took his eyes and felled his traps with hands that clearly read past what Kousuke could - Kousuke did not hate him. It was to be expected of Sai's student, to crush someone like Kousuke; someone who regularly sat across from Fujiwara Sai would not fall before someone who claimed a relation. Maybe not brilliant like the stars Sai could weave across the board, but there was something equally lovely in Hikaru's hands - like lotus flowers sprouting from the mucky underneath.

They continued to play, even as Nase left the room with a visible glower and unshed tears in her eyes.

They continued to play, even as Waya slowed his shuffle by the board to take a look.

They continued to play, even as Nanohara kicked the vending machine in the hallway in a fit of frustration and Honda won his game with a narrow margin.

There was a moment, as Kousuke looked at the board and saw Sai's hands woven into the gameplay, that the younger boy thought everything suddenly seemed so perfectly clear. This was what Kousuke adored about Go the most; he knew the endgame, knew what his opponent wanted and enjoyed figuring out how his opponent thought they could get it. Some weaved hands to see a beautiful play, others greeted it like a battlefield that they intended for no one to leave unscathed; these were the moments, when Kousuke sat across from his opponent, that he enjoyed seeing.

Hikaru's play was a thousand threads coming together to weave the noose he tied around his opponent's throat. Not perfect, not yet and maybe not ever - but they knew their intended use and they had wrapped themselves snug around Kousuke's neck. 

It was Kousuke's turn, his hand in the goke as he thought about their game. Lunch break had already rolled around, and he knew that after his play, they would break for it. It was practically enforced, after all; already the administrators were looking at them, gauging whether they'd have to step in and push them to lunch. 

Kousuke didn't need that interference. He already knew.

" _Makemashita_."

Hikaru's head snapped up, green eyes wide as they locked on him. His cousin was an eccentric, that much was certain - but they all were, when it came down to it. Sai had chosen a worthy successor, a worthy student - a worthy son. 

"Why?" Hikaru asked.

Kousuke didn't smile but his eyes were not unkind. "I already lost," he shrugged. Hikaru's eyes lit up in that way that scared most of his opponents, looking back at the board and analyzing both their past and future moves. If there was another way Kousuke could have salvaged himself, he could not find it yet - perhaps later, when he's locked himself away in his room alone with his board and his thoughts. But now, looking at the flow of the stones and the pattern they had wrought, Kousuke could not see any way out of the dark.

"You are the only person I can lose to without regret," Kousuke stated casually. Hikaru looked at him with that dumbfounded look he tended to wear in their interactions. It was still better than the cornered-prey one he sometimes sported. 

"I promise you, I am a textbook definition of a sore loser with anyone else," Kousuke added, rising to his feet with fluid grace. "You should consider yourself lucky."

Kousuke left Hikaru sitting at the board and staring at his back. Let his newfound cousin try to puzzle out his motives - it was half the fun in the relationship they were just starting to build. He recorded his first ( _and only,_ Kousuke added to himself viciously) loss at the front before leaving the room. 

Some of the other examinees were milling about, either still wondering what they should get for lunch or ruminating over their losses or victories of the day. Kousuke avoided them, not the type to socialize and make nice with strangers. If there was a part in his father's training that worked on developing the social skills necessary to rub elbows with the elite, Kousuke hadn't reached it yet. 

Instead, Kousuke headed for the bathroom. Not for any deep or meaningful rumination; he just wanted a quiet moment alone that didn't entail leaving the premises or calling his driver over to pick him up. Just a moment to unwind the stress built up over an intense game he'd ultimately lost, even if the opponent was someone he could stand.

Although unpleasant, it wasn't much of a shock to see the bathroom occupied. Isumi Shinichirou was the worst kind of blister; popping up no matter how many times someone had punctured his thin skin. Kousuke's interactions with the older boy were scarce at best, but none were particularly nice; a result of Isumi's issue with Hikaru more than anything. A person would have to be comatose to not realize both boys were in the middle of some falling out, and even then - the coma patient could probably choke on the tension in the air.

The Shindou family, too, were covered in the explanation of Fujiwara Hikaru. If it hadn't had such immediate consequences, Kousuke could have laughed at the situation - imagine befriending someone in the already small world of Go, only to discover they were your step-brother through your estranged father. If Kousuke hadn't been briefed on what exactly Hikaru had gone through under the lack of care provided by his mother, he probably would have laughed every time he saw the two boys in the same room.

Kousuke hoped he'd get to play the older boy before Hikaru did. Imagining tearing the older boy to shreds and throwing out the bones for Hikaru to pick through was an endearing image.

"Excuse me," Isumi said, looking Kousuke in the face before turning his attention to the boy's shoulder. Kousuke was still standing in front of the door, after all, but it was just so fun to see the cornered look on Isumi's face.

"Hikaru won," Kousuke stated. 

Isumi froze. The older boy had won his match of the day as well, but against a weakling like Endo, Kousuke didn't think much of the victory. Kousuke knew, in the great scale of skill that made up this year's talent in the Pro Exams, just where everyone had placed. 

"Hey, if Hikaru wins when you two finally play," Kousuke proposed, tone appropriately snide. "Do you think your Grandfather would prefer him over you?"

Isumi's lips thinned, his expression caught somewhere between an overwhelming wash of sadness and fury. It was such an ugly look on the generally handsome boy, it satisfied the cruelest part in Kousuke's heart that bled Fujiwara.

Isumi was a latchkey kid. Figuring out the reasons for his reactions, seeking to understand his motivations to better predict his movements - these were the things Ochi did when he deigned to spend his time in Isumi's general vicinity. It was also the part he played in Fujiwara Mitsuo's theatre, and Kousuke had no intention of disappointing him. So when he learned his new cousin had a step-brother that was also taking part in the Pro Exams, Kousuke decided to keep an eye on such an entertaining dynamic. 

Isumi had grown up alone, just like Kousuke - but at least Isumi had learned love before he'd learned survival. Kousuke had attached himself to objects before people, and whatever Hikaru had learned before Sai - Kousuke didn't much want to know. 

"Not that it matters, since he's ours now." Their family was possessive when it mattered. "But didn't you ever wonder how that happened in the first place?" Kousuke had, and he'd had his curiosity assuaged under his father's explanation. It was an interesting change of pace, hearing about someone else's immense suffering. 

If Isumi had thought about it, it did not show in his face; his expression was still contorted in that cross between anger and depression. Kousuke didn't really put it past the older boy not to have given much thought for the oddities of Hikaru's situation - some people really were just that self-obsessed. The pitiful had the tendency to focus almost exclusively on their own suffering to care much for anyone else's.

"...he's a good Go player," Isumi ground out. 

The corners of Kousuke's mouth twitched up, growing into a full-blown grin - but an unkind one, more cruel than amused. "He _is_ good, isn't he?" he threw back at the older boy mockingly. 

Isumi seemed to have sensed something in the reply, as he flinched back as if struck. 

"I think we went into these Exams at the same level, but playing him today - it's like he grew exponentially stronger with each game. Of course the Meijin would be interested in someone like that," Kousuke acknowledged with that same grinding smile. "But interested in _adopting_ him? Isumi-san - please, you can find a better reason than _that,_ can't you?"

"I am not going to play 20 questions with you about him!" Isumi snapped back.

Kousuke supposed the older boy really didn't want to think about the reasons why the first Shindou family become what they were now. Seeing as everyone else was still dealing with the fallout from Shindou Masao's egregious mistakes, Kousuke didn't think the new Shindou family warranted a particularly gentle treatment.

"Fair enough," Kousuke shrugged off, stepping out of Isumi's path. The older boy nearly lunged for the door. 

Kousuke wasn't going to be satisfied with just that, though. There were only three people allotted to pass the Pro Exams, after all, and Hikaru was assuredly going to be among them. The idea that Isumi Shinichiro would share that right with him was a grating thought.

"One last question, then," Kousuke started before Isumi could pull open the door and run from him. "With his mother spending all her money on drugs and boyfriends, she spared no money for Hikaru - not school or food or the like. _How_ do you think Hikaru got the money to pay for it himself?"

Kousuke could tell Isumi had heard him, knew it when the boy's posture stiffened as he actually did think about what Kousuke was implying. It would get the gears turning in Isumi's mind, because Go players were meant for strategy - figuring out how their opponent's think was another skill they needed to develop, after all. 

" _My uncle found out._ That's why he took Hikaru away from his mother. That's why he won't ever give Hikaru back to your stepfather. They can't be trusted any more because of what happened to him," Kousuke said.

Isumi bolted out the door.

* * *

 

"Do you ever wonder," Kaneko mused, sitting to Akira's right and staring at the object in her hands. "Exactly how much free time Kishimoto must have?"

"All the time," Akira replied dully. 

Kishimoto glared back at them, saying with nothing but his eyes that they better keep their unwelcome comments to themselves or risk losing a limb. Somehow, the older boy made himself look threatening - despite the apron and ridiculous chef's hat he was currently wearing. Akira felt a little bit of himself crumble away into nothing again.

Tsutsui, seated across from the pair at Kishimoto's table, rallied himself together unerringly. "I think it's wonderful that Kishimoto-kun does so much for his friends," he said winningly, with just the right amount of good-natured cheer that made the younger two feel irrationally guilty. 

"You quit the Go club and shouted at a teacher for talking bad about Hikaru," Kaneko reminded him tiredly. _Not to mention all those rumors in our school going around about you and Hikaru now..._

"That was justified," Tsutsui waved off with the kind of authority only the most hardline of believers carried. Kaneko, too, felt something inside of herself crumble away into nothing. "And I've never done anything as creative as this before!"

Akira, still holding the cellphone charm that Kishimoto had apparently made in one of his fits of artistic inspiration, looked beseechingly in the direction of Hidaka. The girl was lounging comfortably atop the nearby couch, pointedly ignoring whatever was going on in her boyfriend's kitchen as she flipped through a fashion magazine. Akira knew she was lying and vowed he wouldn't forgive the girl for this (practically expected) betrayal. He stared back down at his gift: it was _Spirited Away's_ Haku, both human and dragon form, surrounding two Go stones.

"We don't look anything alike," Akira muttered to himself in defeat. 

Kaneko, who had gotten a miniature volleyball-and-net charm, just snorted at his claim as she dug out her cellphone from her purse, putting the strap on under Kishimoto's approving eyes. Tsutsui had already done so beforehand, having received one with Go stones and an eternity symbol. 

"What about Hikaru and Mitani?" Kaneko asked.

Kishimoto, of course, had them and pulled those out as well. It was easy to tell whose was whose; one was a little picture of wisteria and Go stones, the other was music symbols and the face of a hissing cat. 

"I like that Hikaru's looks so elegant," Kaneko cackled. "Imagine finding a phone with that charm and returning it to someone like Hikaru!"

Akira was staring at Mitani's charm. _....I can actually see the likeness._

"Were you going to mail it to him?" Tsutsui asked, indicating to the charm that would belong to their wayward friend still living in Ibaraki. 

"Yes, but not yet," Kishimoto answered. "I'm almost done with the seashell decorative jar he wanted. I'll mail it with that."

Kaneko looked amused. "You actually made one for him? I didn't think he'd gathered any seashells for you to work with," she observed.

"He didn't," Hidaka threw in with a laugh. "Kaoru-kun is just a softie!"

Kishimoto blushed a vibrant red, turning back around to go back to making their lunch and ignoring the teasing way both girls cooed at him. 

* * *

 

Waya and Nase stood side-by-side at the game record table; Nase recording her loss and Waya checking over the current score of the examinees. It was the 23rd day of matches and so now everyone pretty much knew where they stood in terms of if they had a chance at passing the Exams.

**Fujiwara Hikaru** \- _23 wins, 0 losses._

Expected, if not terrifying. Morishita would have liked him.

**Waya Yoshitaka** \- _20 wins, 3 losses._  

One to Hikaru, one to Isumi, and one to Ochi. The last one had been exceptionally bitter for him.

**Ochi Kousuke** \- _22 wins, 1 loss._

Waya still wanted to see that Hikaru vs Ochi game. 

**Honda Toshinori** -  _19 wins, 4 losses._

**Nase Asumi** \- _15 wins, 8 losses_.

**Fukui Yuuta**  - _14 wins, 9 losses_.

There was a chance for Honda, but Nase and Fukui had likely already resigned themselves to another year as insei. 

**Isumi Shinichiro** -  _19 wins, 4 losses._

Waya had played the four people that had defeated Isumi. They weren't bad, but they were hardly up to the same level as the top three members of insei. There was no excuse for those losses, and the moment Shirakawa saw them, the insei instructor would probably go on the warpath. Waya was already beating him to it.

"Are you going to smack Isumi-san out of it?" Nase asked, once they'd left the room. She was upbeat, looking to be merely curious; Waya hated her composure. He felt he'd mostly come undone already throughout this entire month.

"It's a bad time for everyone," Waya defended his friend. "But yeah, I'll talk to him."

Nase grinned at him, turning to the corridor that lead to the elevator. Clearly the girl planned on staying after awhile longer, likely for further study; Shirakawa should be available in one of study rooms, Waya remembered. 

"There seems to be a lot of minders this year," Nase mused. "Be careful throwing yourself into someone else's business, Waya."

She bid him goodbye with a jaunty grin, leaving him to stare after her in irritation. Nase did not enjoy seeing her friends flailing about as they were these days, but Waya knew her well enough to see that she thought they probably needed to - perhaps they had just been so repressive in their interactions that she thought they needed to air out the dirty laundry.

Waya guessed she'd never really forgiven anyone for Enomoto. She had also been in the insei program for a time, but had bottled up all her grievances against them until one day, she just stopped showing up to insei classes completely. Nase and her had been good friends, but afterwards - she wouldn't even pick up Nase's calls. No one had been able to reach her as Enomoto had cut off all communication with them, taking a fair chunk of Nase's trust with her. The only lesson Nase had learned from Enomoto's disappearance was that keeping up a pretense did more harm than good.

Waya headed for the commons but there was only a few straggling examinees bent over a game record. He checked the rest of the rooms on the first floor but all were empty. He knew neither Hikaru nor Isumi had returned home yet - their shoes were still in the entrance. Following Nase's earlier tread, he headed upstairs and started checking room by room. The Institute was still populated at this time of day; there were a few classes going on, along with a fair amount of study sessions and practical work. The administration was exhausted daily by the upkeep of the building and their examinees, and the Go professionals they had on hand only added more stress the hectic schedule rather than helped it.

It took Waya a good 10 minutes before he started to wonder if they had somehow killed each other without anyone the wiser. The building wasn't small but he didn't think it would be this hard to locate two boys who didn't even really want to look at each other right now.

Annoyingly, he found them in one of the smaller study rooms on the fifth floor. It was a wonder they had come so far, but he guessed it was for the isolation; it was clear they didn't want interlopers coming in because they had chosen one of the least rooms used furthest down the hallway. They were both standing, as far as Waya could discern; Isumi's back was facing the door, Hikaru mostly hidden behind Isumi's frame aside from a short glimpse Waya got as Hikaru teetered from side to side in a clear fit of nerves. 

Hikaru's expression was twisted, something close to a sneer but lined with so much hatred that it looked comically horrible. Isumi had one hand braced on the top of a chair, as if it were the only thing holding him up, and the rigid frame of his shoulders and cringing posture were telltale enough that their conversation was unpleasant. It was what they were saying - not quite shouting but certainly not quiet - that grabbed Waya's attention as he opened the door.

"There weren't a lot of options, Isumi! I was hungry and my clothes didn't fit right and the school kept asking about tuition money! _What else could I have sold?"_

* * *

  **A/N** : I told myself the Pro Exams would only be two chapters max. I lied.

 Ok but really, next chapter is the last for the Pro Exams. (And finally some kind of conclusion to the Isumi-Hikaru debacle!) (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

 Please **_drop a comment_** , if you'd be so kind~ ;)

 


	24. Interlude III

 

  
**A/N** : Next chapter is almost done, but here's an interlude, everyone! Thank you so much for the comments! :)

  
**Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.

 

* * *

**Interlude III**

* * *

_July 1999_

 

Sai left the study room with a bit of a bounce in his step; the preliminary examinations were now underway, which meant that soon - the Pro Exams would start. During this time, Sai wouldn't really be bothered by either the Institute or its affiliates for much, as they had their hands full covering the entrance of the new pros and setting up their first official matches. Sai could just spend the time studying more of Honinbou Shuusaku's games and occasionally go out to play a match with Touya Kouyou or Ogata. 

 

Said bespectacled ninth-dan was actually loitering in the lobby of the Institute, speaking to Shirakawa seventh-dan. Sai wasn't especially close with the Morishta study group member, and he was a bit surprised Ogata was considering Morishita's enduring rivalry with the retired Kouyou - but Ogata was a friendly guy. Sai shouldn't be too surprised he got along with just about anybody, especially the man that was heading the beginner Go classes.

 

Ogata looked up as he approached, nodding in greeting. "They finally let you go?" the man scoffed out. He didn't say he had been waiting for Sai, and Sai wouldn't think he was - after all, although they may be friends, Sai didn't think he was very good company. Someone like the genteel Shirakawa would be much more enjoyable to share a drink with, rather than Sai who couldn't drink alcohol without grimacing.

 

"They just wanted my opinion on Amakawa's last match," Sai answered with a smile. He greeted Shirakawa with an equally benevolent look, the other pro smiling back just as brightly.

 

"Fujiwara-sensei," Shirakawa greeted demurely, pleasant smile in all facets. Sai admired the man's seemingly-inherent amiability - he must be popular among the locals of his Go classes, with such a kindly demeanor. Sai envied that kind of social ease. "We were just talking about the latest batch of insei."

 

"He says there's a decent haul this year," Ogata snorted. "But his tastes are pretty shitty."

 

Shirakawa's eyes drilled into Ogata very hard then, smile growing. Sai couldn't quite pinpoint why the look made him uncomfortable. "I admit, my taste can be a little off in some respects," he agreed with a strange lilt to his tone. Sai blinked in confusion; Ogata scowled and glared back. "But when it comes to skill in Go, I like to think I'm a decent observer."

 

"What, speaking with the years of experience you got as acting dictator over a class of senior citizens?" Ogata sneered.

 

Shirakawa's smile was hard. "I like a bit of control in all my social situations," he laughed lightly.

 

Sai wasn't quite following what they were talking about. "So you have a good feeling about this year's Pro Exams?" he asked instead, hoping to steer the conversation back to a topic he could at least contribute to, although he did wonder if he was just an unwanted third wheel to the two men.

 

Shirakawa brightened considerably. "They're no Touya Akira, but we've got quite the decent collection. It's the last class of the month, but here, Fujiwara-sensei, let me introduce you..."

* * *

  
**A/N** : Interludes are so short, haha~ So I included an omake.

 

* * *

  
**X X X X X X X OMAKE X X X X X X X X**

* * *

_(Three very different times that Hikaru comes down with a cold)_

 

Hikaru shuffles noisily into the house, attempting to call out his greeting but not getting out much more than a _"I'm h-"_ before a sneeze overtakes him. His mother comes bustling out of the kitchen with a worried frown, eyes raking over her son in concern. 

 

"A cold?" she asks, without really waiting for an answer. 

 

Hikaru nods miserably anyway, pulling off his shoes and allowing his mother to tug him up the stairs and into his bedroom. He's changed into looser clothes and is tucked into bed, but his nose is too clogged up and his head too stuffy to really enjoy the treatment. His mother returns to his room with some cold medicine and he swallows it down without tasting it.

 

"I'll make you something to eat in a bit," his mother is saying as she moves about his room, putting his backpack away and absently rearranging his bedcovers. "I'll tell your dad to pick up some extra medicine on his way home... And some mandarins. How does that sound, Hikaru?"

 

"S'good," Hikaru agrees drowsily. 

 

His mother smiles at him, leaving the room to get started on something he can actually eat. Hikaru stares at his wall a bit, musing over how good the sweet-citrus taste of mandarin will be when his nostrils finally clear enough for him to enjoy it. He falls asleep thinking orange is his favorite color.

 

He wakes up hours later. Night has fallen, and he can hear his mother moving around downstairs. There's a tray of rice soup sitting on his sidetable, along with a glass of water. 

 

There's no mandarin, and there won't be tomorrow either.

* * *

"...aaaa. Itsuuukaaaa~!"

 

Hikaru opens his eyes, irritated and miserable. Both his nostrils have clogged while he snoozed, and he has the awful feeling that one is running but is too self-conscious to check. Instead he glares at the girl leaning over him, a chill running down his skin that for the first time in a long while, has absolutely nothing to do with the Gate.

 

"You look like shit," Mimi tells him succinctly. She backs away when Hikaru sneezes, still grinning. 

 

"Go home, you idiot!" Ame screeches from the other side of the room. "Before you start a fucking pandemic!"

 

"Fuck off, Ame!" Chikara calls back on Hikaru's behalf. 

 

  
_God, I wanna just die already,_ Hikaru thinks bitterly, headache worsening as Ame and Mimi devolve into a yelling match, Aoi and Chikara quick to join in just for the entertainment. Aian slinks in just as Aoi throws an empty soda can in their general vicinity, the red-haired Gate worker shooting Ame a dry look as he moves past, bag slung over his shoulder.

 

"Geez man," Aian greeted with a huge grin, drawing closer to Hikaru. "Why the hell would you come here sick? Dumbass."

 

"Chikara, tell Aian to fuck off," Hikaru muttered.

 

"Aian, Itsuka says he appreciates you but also, go fuck yourself," Chikara states cheerfully.

 

Aian rolls his eyes, opening his bag and flinging the contents onto Hikaru's stomach. The younger boy blinks, green eyes focusing on the handful of mandarins now rolling off his midsection. Chikara, Mimi, and Aoi take the three that roll off for their own, and Aian swipes one as payment for an errand fulfilled. Hikaru pulls himself up into a sitting position, noting the one mandarin and couple of boxes of assorted snacks that remain in his lap.

 

"You were supposed to pick up meds from the Doc, Aian!" Chikara huffed, smacking the taller teen in the arm. 

 

"Hey, I went to that asshole too!" Aian defended himself. "But he said that Mas-"

 

"I leave you guys alone for 30 minutes," Masaki interrupted loudly, tone irritated and expression glowering. "And you get so fucking rowdy I can hear you from outside?"

 

"They started it!" Ame countered hotly. Mimi laughed, high and mocking.

 

Masaki didn't even deign that with a response, moving over to Hikaru and throwing a pack of cold meds at his face. "Take this, idiot. I can't believe you got sick before the weekend, do you know how fucking annoying it is to reschedule these shitheads? _Fuck_..."

 

"M'sorry," Hikaru lied.

 

"Whatever," Masaki snorted, stealing the last mandarin. 

* * *

Hikaru trudges out into the living room-dining area, sniffling but trying to hide it. He hopes he doesn't look as gross as he feels, but already there's the telltale feeling of snot oozing from his right nostril and his eyes are watering. 

 

Sai looks up from his morning cup of tea at the same time Ogata turns around from where he's watching the fish fry in the broiler, both men's attention on the boy as Hikaru tries to muster up the energy for his morning greeting.

 

"Hikaru, you're sick!" Sai shoots out first, standing with a concerned look on his face.

 

"Get back to bed, I've seen healthier zombies," Ogata said, taking the fish out of the broiler before it can burn. 

 

"I can still go to school," Hikaru protests, but he's ignored as Sai leads him back to the bedroom and instructs him to change back into pyjamas. The man leaves the room (as he always does when Hikaru has to change), and Hikaru can hear both men discussing who would grab the cold meds and who would stay to start on some porridge. 

 

The answer is obvious of course - _"Seeing as we don't want to make him more sick, I'll be the one cooking,"_ Ogata says - and so when Hikaru next emerges from the bedroom dressed in pyjamas, Sai is calling out a hasty farewell and Ogata is cleaning rice.

 

"Do you need help?" Hikaru asks. He thinks he sounds quite coherent, despite the congested quality of his voice.

 

"Yes but not with cooking," Ogata returns magnanimously. He's set the rice to boil, now cutting up green onion. 

 

Hikaru mutters something derogatory about Ogata's bedside manner, but the man only quirks a smirk at him. "Go sit down and watch something on the TV," the man orders him gruffly. "Although good luck on finding anything decent."

 

"What, you don't like daytime dramas?" Hikaru teases good-naturedly. "You already have that whole housewife thing going for you, I thought you'd want to round out the entire package."

 

"So much sass for a sick person," Ogata snips back. "Sit your ass down before I make this porridge 90 percent onion."

 

Hikaru would have liked to retort but he's overtaken by a round of sneezes, and he collapses onto the couch gratefully. Ogata comes over to throw a blanket onto him, still smirking, and then to shove a hot cup of herbal tea into his hands.

 

"I hate herbal tea," Hikaru grumbles into the rim of the teacup.

 

"Flowers everywhere weep at your rejection," Ogata replies.

 

They spend the next hour like this; Hikaru has given up on really saying much of anything, the tea soothing his hoarse throat and cozily warm swathed in a blanket. He does settle on one especially vapid daytime drama, but Hikaru is too tired to really register much of anything besides Ogata's occasional comments on just how truly awful the show is. He's served a bowl of the Ogata-style porridge, complete with a fair amount of green onion and egg. Hikaru tastes practically nothing, nose clogged the way it is, but he does manage to eat enough spoonfuls that Ogata relaxes and makes himself a cup of coffee.

 

Sai returns soon after, laden with grocery bags and one paper bag full of cold meds. Ogata rolls his eyes at the abundance, getting up to help the Meijin and shooting Hikaru a look when the boy also tries to rise. 

 

"Did you already eat? How are you feeling?" Sai rushes out, setting the groceries on the table and checking over Hikaru with due diligence. He pulls out the medicine, reading over the instructions as Ogata fetches a glass of water. 

 

"Seiji-san made me green onions with some porridge to help balance out the flavor," Hikaru replied flatly. 

 

"He's sick as can be, but his attitude is one hundred percent as always," Ogata said. 

 

Sai looks amused at their commentary, even as he measures out the required dosage and watches as Hikaru downs it. Ogata hands Hikaru the cup of water, following Sai back to the table to go through the purchases.

 

"Did you buy out the entire market or something," Ogata grumbles, sifting through the two bags full of fruits. "God, your local shops must love you."

 

"I just wanted to make sure I had enough," Sai claims defensively, pulling out a mandarin to peel. He offers it to Hikaru once done, smiling warmly at his charge - even in this disheveled state, _Hikaru's so cute_ \- before turning back to Ogata when the man pulls out a 5-pound bag of mandarin.

 

"You are ridiculous," Ogata tells him, with that same strange tone he's starting to use more often that Sai can't quite place, but knows isn't insulting. The ninth-dan turns his attention to Hikaru before Sai can work out a response. 

 

"I hope you love mandarin because we are going to be eating them for the next two months."

 

Both men attribute it to the cold when Hikaru turns away to scrub at his watering eyes.

 

* * *

X


	25. Warped Stitching

**A/N** : Thank you guys SO MUCH for the comments! I loved reading every one, and tried to reply to most of them. I'll finish replying to the rest by the weekend. :) _I love hearing from you guys, so thank you!_

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.

 **Warnings** : Ditto the last.

 **Pairings** : Ditto the last.

* * *

**Chapter 22**

_Warped Stitching_

* * *

 

There were plenty of things Hikaru could have done for money.

 

 _One_ , offering to do chores and the like for neighbors. Isumi had been good at that - grocery runs for older neighbors, cleaning up after children, watching pets and the like. 

 

 _Two_ , doing underhanded jobs for classmates. Things like doing homework for a fee, or taking over someone's class duty. 

 

 _Three_ , drug involvement. Isumi knew Hikaru's mother had a drug problem; he'd overheard enough of his step-father's reporting to his wife and parents about the circumstances. There was a possibility Hikaru had gleaned some from his own mother and sold what he could to stay afloat.

 

 _Four_ , theft. Hikaru could have stolen things - purses, wallets, shoes, anything expensive enough to guarantee a decent income. He could have sold it to someone who wouldn't ask questions, and that would be that.

 

 _Five_ , prostitution. Hikaru could have sold himself. Isumi knew of the existence of that industry; he'd been in class with a girl that took part in paid dating. But that was a girl, after all, and a teenager to boot - Hikaru was barely entering puberty and looked twelve anyway.

 

Neither of options one or two would give enough money to survive on. _Three, four, five_ \- these were the only ones that would warrant such drastic action from someone who cared about Hikaru. Stealing things was not steady income, wouldn't guarantee things like clothes or school tuition. Hikaru was still a child besides; any adult could overpower him if they tried hard enough.

 

 _Three, five_. Ochi had mentioned that Hikaru's biological parents could "no longer be trusted" because of what "happened" to Hikaru. Drugs "happened" to a lot of people, including Hikaru's mother - but the boy showed no outward symptoms of drug use. It would be hard to hide the effects of drug use from the insei; they spent many afternoons together, and between that and actual school, Isumi couldn't see where Hikaru would make the time. 

 

Unless Ochi phrased it in such a way that addressed "selling drugs" as something that "happened" to someone. While possible, the phrasing would be clunky and thus unlikely for the otherwise eloquent boy. But still, the possibility remained.

 

And then _five_. 

 

_No._

Isumi thanked Uchida for their game, but didn't quite have the energy (or heart) to comfort the girl over her loss. Instead he cleaned the board, stood up, and recorded their match. No one said anything to him as he left, Waya still playing and the other insei either gone or tied up in their own matches as well. 

 

His mother and Mirai were home when he returned, although Isumi had half-expected his step-father to be present as well after being chased away by Ogata ninth-dan. The man wasn't home though, and his mother seemed blissfully unaware of anything that may have happened at the Go Institute as she only asked him the cursory questions and if he was hungry for dinner.

 

Isumi retired to his room, too sick with nerves to be hungry and pretending not to notice the worried look on his mother's face as he passed. He could hear Mirai crying about one of his broken toys downstairs, his mother's soft tones both consoling and chastising, and the smell of the fish she was frying for her family - it'd likely end up burnt again, as it always did when his mother couldn't watch both the food and Mirai. Normally, Isumi would go down to help with one or the other, even after matches - but today he just couldn't muster up the energy required to interact even with his family.

 

Right now, he didn't want to look into Mirai's green eyes and be reminded.

 

And then _five_.

 

Mirai was three years old; Hikaru would have been nine years old when his parents split.  Another year for the downturn, if it had been a slow one, and he would have been 10 years old.

 

Would anyone trust a 10 year old peddling drugs?

 

And then possibility _five_ , at 10 years old. Hikaru would have still been in elementary school. But that didn't make sense, because he wasn't a girl, and a child besides - it didn't make sense because Isumi didn't want it to make sense.

 

Hikaru didn't like it when adults drew too close to him - Kishimoto had mentioned that once. An older man at the Go parlor that both boys frequented had tried to pat Hikaru on the head and the boy had flipped out, accidentally knocking over a Go board in his startled lunge to get away. The parlor owner had rushed over to keep Hikaru and the man separated. No one mentioned Hikaru's weird reaction, not even the other parlor customers; everyone had kept their eyes glued to their boards and pretended not to notice. 

 

And then _five_ , at 11 years old, and now he cannot stand touch.

 

But that could be anything. Perhaps Hikaru was unused to touch, having such a terrible relationship with his mother. Maybe he hadn't got along with his mother's boyfriends, or maybe he was bullied in school - either wouldn't be unheard of, and would definitely rouse someone to defend the boy. But then why would Ochi bring up costs, unless what had "happened" to Hikaru was directly related to finances?

 

And then _five_ , at 11 years old, and he cannot stand touch because of what happened to him.

 

But Hikaru was still a child. Someone would have noticed.

 

Someone did notice. Fujiwara Sai noticed.

 

And then _five_.

* * *

 

 

Isumi could not concentrate on his matches; his inattention robbed him of his victories, and after the second loss in a row, he can't join his family at the dinner table in fear of sicking up his food. His step-father doesn't bring up Hikaru around Isumi anymore after he reports his second loss, and the conversations about his first son turn from quiet to whispers. His mother tried to help, setting up a tray of his favorite treats in his room, but Pretz only ever reminds him of the multiple times his mother used to warn him about strangers when he was younger while giving him snacks before she left for work.

 

By the third loss, Isumi's sense of self-worth was so ground to dust that Honda tried to ask him to discuss the game afterwards, clearly intent on trying to bolster Isumi to some point. Isumi rejected the request, recorded their match for the administrators, and left without saying goodbye again.

 

After the fourth loss straight, Isumi tried to do the same thing. He was up and already walking out the door, not quite seeing what's ahead. However, his eyes catch blond-on-black before he can take one step to the door, and Isumi wondered if anyone had ever given Hikaru treats before but with an entirely different message.

 

"Hikaru-kun," Isumi calls out before his courage leaves him.

 

Hikaru looked up from where he'd been trying to open a strawberry Ramune, blinking at Isumi and clearly not expecting the older boy to speak to him. Isumi wouldn't have, either, but he was sick and tired of fleeing from everything. Nase was right - it was tiring, be scared of every little thing.

 

"Can we talk?" Isumi asked, voice gone quieter. The courage is falling away from him like heavy raindrops.

 

"I'm not sure I wanna," Hikaru replies coldly. 

 

Isumi wanted to run - to avoid confrontation is in his nature. He could simply accept Hikaru's distaste, leave the matter alone to be dealt with by Fujiwara-sensei and his step-father; it wasn't like Isumi was a key party in Hikaru's custody battle. He was an outsider, no connection, nothing.

 

Except. 

 

And then _five_.

 

"Please?" Isumi tried again, voice breaking on the word. "Not-Not for my- your, your father."

 

Hikaru looked even angrier at the mention of his father. Isumi's heart closed just a bit more.

 

"Just between us, Hikaru-kun," Isumi tried. "Just about- us."

 

Hikaru stared at him for several long moments. Isumi wondered if the boy was thinking if Isumi was worth the effort; they had only been friends, after all, and what could Isumi possibly do to influence Shindou Masao? Isumi was just weak, just a coward, just-

 

"Okay," Hikaru nodded, reluctance obvious.

 

Isumi lead him to a room that Saeki had once taken both him and Waya, for extra studying and review. A quiet room, further from the bustle of the classes and the pros; practically a closet, where extra chairs and foldable boards were kept. Hikaru went in first, shoulders tight and expression pinched, Isumi following after and shutting the door behind him.

 

Hikaru watched the door as it closed. Isumi wondered if Hikaru felt uncomfortable with having the only exit blocked. Those green eyes finally turned to him in careful evaluation, wariness lining his friend's posture like a coiled spring. There was no avoiding this, not anymore.

 

"Do you want to go back to your dad?" Isumi asked.

 

Isumi didn't know what Hikaru wanted - he could understand that now. His step-father wanted Hikaru back, Fujiwara-sensei did not want Hikaru to go, and both families were stuck on either side. Isumi, who had not wanted to open his family back up for the other boy, could see just how inherently selfish that was; as if he'd gotten a brand new toy that he didn't want to share, Isumi realized he was no better than a brat on the playground.

 

It did not occur to Isumi until now, that Hikaru had never really made his own opinion known. Isumi had thought the boy would hate the idea of going back to his father, much in the same way Isumi would hate his own - but it was unfair to just assume Hikaru's stance when it was such an important issue to him.

 

"Of course not," Hikaru replied. "You can have him."

 

Irritation flared up in Isumi, but only briefly; that had made it sound like Isumi was only worthy of someone else's castoffs and he wasn't sure he liked that. But that was a minor thing, more tone than anything else, and so Isumi let it slide. There were more important things now.

 

"Fujiwara-sensei doesn't want to give you back either." Ochi had made that abundantly clear. "But Dad still wants you back anyway."

 

Hikaru didn't say anything. Isumi didn't fault him for that; there wasn't much he could say. A child's opinion didn't matter much in custody battles; the courts were interested in a resolution settled between the guardians, not the interest of the child. 

 

"I know you don't…don't like me," Isumi started. His voice had gone weak again but he did manage to stop himself from cringing when those green eyes refocused on him with a challenging stare. Hikaru's expression seemed to be suggesting 'and what of it?' The silent verification that they weren't even friends anymore danced unsung between them now, clear as day.

 

"I know that your mom wasn't- ," Isumi started haltingly. He knew quite a lot about Hikaru's mother now, considering how much his grandparents and step-father talked about the woman. But he wasn't that comfortable blatantly insulting her to her son's face, so he continued lamely with, "-wasn't any good. I know that's why Fujiwara-sensei took you in."

 

"Think you know quite a bit, don't you?" Hikaru sneered back, unimpressed and on edge. Isumi didn't rise to the bait; Hikaru was lashing out, angry that his private issues were being spotlighted. Isumi could understand that.

 

"I don't know anything," Isumi replied. "It's obvious, isn't it? I'm so stupid- I didn't even know you were my step-brother until-"

 

Isumi choked up, stopping himself from speaking for a moment to better organize his thoughts. This wasn't about him. It never was, and he had to remember that - there were more important things to discuss now. He had to stay on topic, couldn't act so self-centered now that Hikaru was actually willing to talk to him.

 

They had to mend their bridge. Isumi could not ignore his relationship with Hikaru, he could not cut contact and pretend to have never met him. Hikaru would be a constant part of his life, the same way his step-father and his grandparents and Mirai would be. No matter how much Hikaru wished to burn those bridges himself, they were not only family in the loosest sense - they were connected via Go as well. All that would make up Isumi's future, Hikaru would be present in every circle as well - there would be no point in feigning otherwise.

 

"No matter where you end up staying, either with Fujiwara-sensei or your dad," Isumi began again. "I don't want things to remain like this between us. It- hurts, leaving it like this."

 

Hikaru didn't say anything.

 

"If you want to stay with Fujiwara-sensei, I can mention it to your dad," Isumi offered, almost desperate to break the strange stillness. "I can understand why you're angry at him, after what happened with your mom and then what happened to you-"

 

Isumi cut himself off. Hikaru, who was watching him avidly, seemed to understand the strange pause. The boy had stilled, green eyes boring into him, and Isumi felt much like he'd been caught in a lie. 

 

Isumi didn't know what he'd intended to say after that 'and'. He didn't know anything more about Hikaru's situation outside of Shindou Mitsuko's drug habits; just like the rest of the Shindou family, he didn't know what had happened to Hikaru in the interim between Mitsuko's downturn and Fujiwara Sai's interference. Three years left entirely unknown by anyone but Hikaru.

 

And then _five_.

 

"And?" Hikaru echoed. The word was ground out, voice unmistakably rough. "And what?"

 

"I don't know," Isumi replied hollowly. It was a lie. "I don't- I'm sorry, I don't even know what I'm saying-"

 

"You sounded like you knew what you were saying," Hikaru snapped back. "And what, Isumi-san?"

 

And then _five_.

 

Isumi wanted to hide. Hide, and pretend he'd never started this conversation, pretend he'd never learned anything about Shindou Hikaru. He wanted to go home, eat dinner with his family, play with Mirai, study his Go and prepare for the rest of his Exams. 

 

Hikaru was glaring at him, bright green eyes hard in his face. Hikaru had only been a bit older than Mirai when-

 

"Ochi said," Isumi wanted to deflect, but more than that, he wanted to explain. "Ochi said that Fujiwara-sensei took you from your mother because he found out what had happened."

 

"Ochi? What does Ochi know?" Hikaru echoed, eyes widening in horror. 

 

"He said- He said that... That your mother didn't give you any money, not for food or clothing or school," Isumi stumbled out. Hikaru froze completely. "And that you, you had to make money to afford it and-"

 

Hikaru's breath, which had seemed trapped in his lungs, suddenly started at an increased speed. "Shut up," he murmured, voice too soft to really be heard.

 

"You made that money, didn't you, Hikaru-kun? Enough money for all of that - that's a steep price," Isumi said.

 

"Shut up," Hikaru said again, louder this time, voice just above a whisper. 

 

Isumi paused. And then _five_.

 

"So I thought about it." This had to end here; Isumi couldn't leave anything up in the air, not anymore. They would build this bridge anew or suffocate in the ashes. "Something that would make you a lot of money in a short time, something that would anger Fujiwara-sensei enough that he'd actually remove you from the environment..."

 

"Isumi, shut up!" Hikaru snapped. It was not anger that shook his voice anymore.

 

"I only came up with two options," Isumi continued, refusing to yield. "But drugs - drugs leave an open trail. You couldn't have taken any yourself, you don't show any of the effects - and who could you sell them to? Who buys drugs from a kid? You'd be easily robbed, so no... That couldn't be it."

 

Hikaru would have been in elementary school when it started. He should have been doing homework, he should have been studying, he should have been playing with his friends and sharing minor grievances with his family. 

 

But he hadn't. "You... What you did..."

 

Hikaru's face was twisted, grotesque and miserable. It broke Isumi's heart to see it, the way Hikaru lost all composure and lashed out even more damning. 

 

"What other choice did I have, Isumi? I was hungry and my clothes didn't fit right and the school kept asking about tuition money! _What else could I have sold?"_ Hikaru demanded. 

 

The words seemed to ring in Isumi's head. The verification is almost too much; already his stomach felt full of lead, steel wool roiling in his gut as he tried to digest Hikaru's words. God - the boy was only twelve. He wasn't even old enough to grow facial hair.

 

The door creaked as it opened. Isumi was surprised he could even hear it with the way Hikaru's words echoed in his mind, but he did and turned startled eyes on Waya's stricken face. There was a moment, as Isumi looked into his friend's eyes, that the older boy thought he could see the whole room from all viewpoints - Waya, surprised at their confrontation and Hikaru, horrified to discover someone had overheard them.

 

Isumi's reaction was to freeze; Hikaru's was to run. Isumi had wanted to grab his step-brother, halt his movements so that he wouldn't escape, but the panic at being disturbed clung to him seemed to swallow him in molasses, limbs moving too slow to be of any real use. 

 

Waya, fortunately, did not share these restrictions. The other boy stepped fully into the room and slammed the door closed behind him, blocking the only exit and grabbing Hikaru by the shoulders to halt his movements. Hikaru let out a sound too guttural to be understood that made Isumi's muscles tense, but the youngest male in the room wasn't much in terms of raw strength even with his adrenaline rush: he and Waya wrestled briefly, but Waya was the far more athletic of the two and easily blocked Hikaru's attempts at getting past him.

 

"Fuck- What the fuck, you asshole, _let me the fuck out!"_ Hikaru screeched. He was not an experienced fighter; his hits were too weak and he flailed more than actually fought, which would have looked ridiculous in any other circumstance but right now just made Isumi want to pull the blond-banged boy back.

 

"Well- At least you're not talking like Touya-" Waya huffed out, blocking most of Hikaru's jabs and unmoving in front of the door. He looked winded but that was mostly from his sudden decision to lock the three of them in here as much as he could without an actual lock on the door.

 

"...Waya..." Isumi could not even hope to start. What could he ask of his friend? If he moved, Hikaru would run and Isumi would never be able to settle matters with him. If Waya stayed, Hikaru would hate them for trapping him inside.

 

But hate, too, was at least a form of closure.

 

"I have no idea what I walked in on," Waya admitted, pushing Hikaru further back. Isumi finally stepped up, holding the smaller boy by the shoulders - Hikaru had completely frozen up now, green eyes wide. "But you guys really need to finish whatever is going on here."

 

Isumi thought of saying they might have sooner if Waya hadn't entered the room, but even he wasn't too certain Hikaru would have stayed still long enough to do so. The boy had looked ready to bolt earlier - perhaps Waya's untimely entrance had merely jumpstarted his fight or flight response.

 

Hikaru dropped nervelessly into a crouch, hands slammed over his ears and muttering. Isumi recognized the stream of words a moment later, the same pitiful mantra he'd walked in on in the bathroom. There was nothing quite like seeing it in plain view; Hikaru looked practically unhinged, a shadow of who he was when he played in the Exams and nothing like the boy Isumi had gotten to know as an insei. 

 

This was the Hikaru Fujiwara Sai had taken from Shindou Mitsuko's home, this was the Hikaru Ochi had spoken about, this was the Hikaru the Fujiwara's had claimed and would not give up, this was the Hikaru that his stepfather had failed. Seeing Hikaru now, looking far smaller than Isumi had been at his age, the older boy realized just how unfair it all was to him.

 

Hikaru was a kid. A kid with considerable strength in Go, but a kid that had just been adopted into the family of one of the richest CEOs in the world after something so horrible that even a complete stranger had to step in.

 

Waya was confused, it was obvious from the way he glanced between them. He seemed to steel himself, apparently willing to break Hikaru out of his hysteria-induced chanting, but Isumi shook his head and took a step back from Hikaru to give the boy some breathing room. Isumi didn't know how to handle this situation but he knew well enough that this was Hikaru's way of trying to regain some equilibrium; they would just have to wait until the boy had gathered his wits back together.

 

One minute later, the words stopped. Two minutes later, Hikaru had started breathing normally. At just over five minutes from the sudden breakdown, Hikaru - still crouched on the floor - looked up at Waya still blocking the door. Isumi could only guess at just how miserable Hikaru looked, because at Waya's startled look, the other insei actually seemed to be considering fleeing himself.

 

"I want to go home now," Hikaru managed out, voice strained. Isumi could tell Hikaru was trying very hard not to cry.

 

Waya seemed to be considering it.

 

But Isumi knew it had to end here. "My father hates me," he blurted out almost in a panic.

 

Two pairs of eyes looked at him, startled. Isumi had to charge on, because relenting now felt as if he should just give up Hikaru altogether - and he wasn't entirely sure he could do that anymore. "He never liked me-"

 

It's only fair Hikaru knows, Isumi thought desperately. For what I'm trying to make him reveal about himself too.

 

"So when my mother married your father, well, I was really happy - he was the first father-figure in my life that genuinely seemed to like me. I'd never had that before," Isumi continued on in a rush. "After I met you at our- your, your grandparents' house, I was... I was so jealous of you."

 

Jealous, and bitter, and angry - Isumi had been many unpleasant things, and he had no excuse for it. Because he was immature, he'd been jealous; because he couldn't get over his own issues, he was bitter; because he couldn't see past himself, he was angry. Some may think him a child, but in this room and in the same space he shared with Hikaru - he was the oldest, and he should have been wiser. Instead he had been envious of a boy who had survived through something even Isumi would have found inconceivable.

 

"Even if you don't believe it, I know they love you. I was jealous of that, and that was unfair to you in all the ways it could be unfair. And _I'm sorry,_ Hikaru," Isumi said, quieter this time. His heart was pounding in his chest, seemingly shaking his ribcage with the sheer force. His head felt hot and his fingertips were cold, but the only thing he was sick with was nerves.

 

"I can't understand what you went through, before this or after. I only have my assumptions, and if these assumptions are true-" Isumi faltered, shuddering. The words stuck like tar in his throat.

 

If they were true, then no number of apologies would make up for what had happened to Hikaru. Fujiwara Sai's cold visage made all too much sense in light of this new context and Isumi found himself understanding why the man had been so overprotective and furious. Shindou Masao may not have played a direct hand in what had happened to his son but if he had checked up on Hikaru even once - perhaps what had happened to the child could have been cut short or avoided altogether.

 

But Isumi loved his step-father, because for all the mistakes he had made with his first son - he cared about Isumi. He wanted to be a good father to Isumi and Mirai, he wanted to be involved in their lives and nurture them. Isumi, who had never had that before with his biological father, felt trapped in that place between forgiving his stepfather his faults and sympathizing with Hikaru for having to suffer because of them. To Isumi, the best thing about family was knowing they would support you despite the odds - and the worst was knowing that those same ties may strangle you instead.

 

"What happens if they're true?"

 

Hikaru's voice was small and he wouldn't meet Isumi's eyes. Instead the younger boy seemed to be seeing past him, unable to escape as he so obviously wanted to do. He sounded so bitterly resigned to this now, dread lining his words and as lifeless as a marionette with its strings cut.

 

Isumi's instinctive reaction is to recoil, but he doesn't. Instead he tries to regain both the air and the courage to forge on because this needed to be addressed; it had shaped Hikaru as he was now and couldn't be ignored for either of their sakes. The words were rolling around in Isumi's head, muddled and inelegant. Isumi wished he could have prepared more for this, wished he just inherently knew the right words to say so that Hikaru would stop looking at him with those eyes.

 

If his assumptions were true - what then? What changed? It was too easy to throw around the blame: Hikaru's biological parents, for never watching out for him; the people who had bought Hikaru's services; Hikaru himself, for offering those services in the first place. People had often claimed so before - if someone didn't want to do it, then why did they offer to exchange sex for money? In such cut-and-dry terms, it was easy to push the blame onto someone like Hikaru rather than the people who actually bought children for sex. Hikaru must have known what would happen and he still offered up his services - so shouldn't some of the responsibility be on his shoulders?

 

Except Hikaru was twelve. Except he was vulnerable. Except consent didn't work like that. 

 

What changed?

 

Hikaru had had sex with adults for money. His parents had either not known or didn't care. Fujiwara Sai had adopted him. He'd become an insei.  They were friends.

 

Hikaru would change. He already was changing; he would grow with every Go game. He would be supported by Fujiwara Meijin himself, had practically gathered a following already due to his own skills and personality. 

 

But Isumi needed to change as well.

 

Whether his assumptions were true or not, Isumi must find some way to deal with Hikaru. Not only because he was his step-brother, not only because they were insei, not only because they had been friends - but because Hikaru was important to him as a person, not just an associate. He cared about Hikaru because they had developed a relationship, cared about what he'd gone through and what he would go through in the future. 

 

Isumi cared about his friends. He'd always cared about them, of course, but not in a way where he wanted to get personally involved with them; if they were hurt, now he actively wanted to comfort them. He wanted to help them, and show them he cared, and get along - he wanted all that and more, because friends were important to Isumi too. He'd never realized they could mean so much to him until now.

 

Waya was trapping Hikaru in this room because he did care about them, because he wanted to help Isumi. He must be so uncomfortable and yet he only stood silently, watching but not speaking. He'd intervened because he cared about his friends and wanted them to settle this matter between them. Waya did not have anything similar to Isumi's walls.

 

Isumi had built the walls around himself, insurance so that other people could not hurt him any more. It would be hard to feel abandoned again as long as he didn't allow anyone to get too close. Friendships were especially tricky because there was no paperwork as physical evidence of their ties; all Isumi had were verbal promises and he'd never believed in those.

 

But Waya was here in this room because he cared about both of them. Nase had spoken to Isumi, cruel but blunt, in order to wake him up. Even those Isumi had held at arms-length, like Honda and Fukui, had never left him despite his recalcitrant attitude and obvious issue with Hikaru. In the end, it had felt like Isumi himself was the only mayweather friend.

 

Isumi would have to change. 

 

"You don't owe anyone anything," Isumi said. He felt calm in the face of Hikaru's dread. "Whether my assumptions are true or not, it's still you. You're still my step-father's son, in blood if nothing else; you're still a damn good insei-"

 

Waya quietly choked on Isumi's uncharacteristic use of profanity.

 

"-and more than that, _you're still my friend_. I care about you because you're you, Hikaru; whatever you've gone through, I care about because it affected you, because it hurt you. Everything that has happened to you - it's not your fault. You don't owe me or anyone else an explanation for it," Isumi said.

 

Blame would not help Hikaru. Isumi could blame every single person on the planet including himself, and that still would not help. And he did want to help; Hikaru was a precious friend and Isumi now realized he had been taking all of his friendships for granted. He'd been so focused on his role in his new family, he'd neglected to develop himself outside of it. Perfect children did not exist, and neither did perfect parents - Isumi understood that now. 

 

"I'm sorry I've been so self-centered, I'm sorry I can't do anything of value for you," Isumi continued. "You have every right to be angry at me. Even if you never forgive me, even if you never forgive your father or your grandparents - I'll understand. But I will also still care about you."

 

Hikaru crumpled. 

 

Isumi had half-expected it. He was inwardly amazed he hadn't folded himself. He watched as Hikaru crouched, hands slammed over his ears once more; the second time was no less disturbing. Waya had taken a couple steps forward, either to shake his friend out of it or comfort him - Isumi doubted Waya really knew himself. The boy had always had more instinctual reactions to things.

 

Hikaru's mantra had changed, though. The words he'd so often used to comfort himself were absent - instead it was quieter but no less repetitive: a stream of words promising Hikaru would never forgive them. It didn't hurt Isumi, perhaps because a major part of him didn't believe Hikaru actually meant it.

 

Isumi crouched down as well. It felt unfair to look down upon Hikaru; the boy was worth so much more than condescension and pity. 

 

"You don't have to forgive us," Isumi murmured, hoping his words broke into Hikaru's chants. _It might even be more fair if you never did,_ he added to himself.

 

Hikaru's words slowed to a stop, going quiet once more. He could hate Isumi and the Shindou family for the rest of his natural life. Isumi could understand that. Forgiveness was so much harder than blame.

 

"I want to go home now," Hikaru repeated again; his voice was so quiet, close to bursting but strangled by his sheer willpower in holding back the sobs. 

 

Isumi wanted to comfort him but knew he could not. "Yes, alright," he said instead, rising to lock eyes with Waya. 

 

Waya moved out of the way. It took several minutes before Hikaru could gather the composure to stand and leave, but once he did, the room was lurched into a stiff silence broken only by Hikaru's departing steps.

 

Waya looked over at Isumi inquisitively as the older boy rose. "I won't pry because it's family business," Waya started, looking uncertain and uncomfortable. "But...will everything be okay now?"

 

Isumi let out a long breath. "I don't know. That depends on how Hikaru wants to handle this, but... I'm not going to pressure him," he said. "Rushing anything at this point would be hurtful to him."

 

Waya could kind of understand that. He'd never thought Hikaru to be someone so vulnerable before; he had expected perhaps Isumi to break down in this meeting but instead he'd been met with a sight he'd never known of. It was disheartening to realize he did not know his friends as well as he had thought. He thought he'd understood best the gist of their attitudes, their personalities, and their issues - but now here he was met with the reality that he hadn't even grazed the surface of them.

 

But growing closer to someone meant learning more about them, sometimes slowly and over long periods of time - Waya knew this. It could take weeks, or months, or years; he would learn about them through exposure, through wanting to know about them. Just as Isumi had said, there was no need to pressure such bonds, no need to rush that development; trust was cultivated, not forced.

 

"Waya, thank you," Isumi said. The smile he gave Waya was small and shaky and close to breaking.

 

Waya thought it absolutely beautiful.

* * *

 

 

Hikaru had been nigh-unapproachable the past week. Sai couldn't tell if it was stress from the exams or something else altogether, as the boy tended to head straight to bed to once he returned home. He'd even been rejecting dinner lately, citing he'd eaten before he headed home, but both Sai and Ogata didn't quite believe that.

 

Sai hoped it was stress. The alternative was too distressing to consider. Instead, he tried to be as supportive as he could - letting Hikaru know he was available to study, hoping against hope that Hikaru would replay his last few matches for him so that Sai could bolster the boy's self-esteem by going over his plays. The boy hadn't replayed the last two for whatever reason, even though Ogata had been careful to mention the Exams were almost done.

 

Sai had bought more good luck charms, had even tried making one himself but gave up when the only thing he had to show for it were bloody pinpricks all over his hands. The few times he'd tried to broach any subject with Hikaru - like his 23rd consecutive win, or that Hikaru was considered sure to pass, or that Sai had bought a house - Hikaru more or less fled the conversation before Sai could stop him.

 

 _It s just the stress,_ Sai convinced himself. Aside from Sai's family issues, which he'd promised to himself to explain once the Exams were over (with dwindling confidence the more the days passed), it wasn't like any of the other subjects were that important. The other insei were sure to mention to Hikaru that he'd essentially passed the Pro Exams now, and the new house could be considered a surprise gift for doing so. Sai had even spent the time trying to set up Hikaru's room, although he'd been relying on Ogata and some of Hikaru's friends to help with the decorations. He had been pleasantly surprised to find Kishimoto so gifted at arts and crafts.

 

Ogata was making a racket in the kitchen. The Meijin would have been fine with just a hot cup of tea to start the day, but Ogata had vetoed that plan with salted salmon cutlet, mixed greens, and egg kake rice. Ogata had even served it with a light cherry tea, sweeter than usual for their breakfast choices but Sai found he enjoyed it much more than the instant tea he was used to sipping in the morning.

 

"When did I get this?" Sai wondered, looking into his teacup.

 

Ogata rolled his eyes, as if Sai was just being dense on purpose, taking back the teacup to refill. "We literally bought it last weekend, dummy. Do you even check your grocery receipts?"

 

Given the sheer number of food and drinks they were steadily accumulating, Sai could admit he didn't. He made sure he could budget the costs, but only Ogata or Hikaru lived and died by grocery coupons. Considering Sai wasn't allowed to touch the groceries aside from the drinks and snacks, he was left only to appreciate whatever his friend or charge inevitably cooked up.

 

"Sometimes it feels like I'm staying at an inn," Sai observed, taking in the traditional breakfast.

 

"I'll take that as a gracious compliment," Ogata returned. "Although next time, a 'thank you for saving me from my own life-threatening attempts at cooking something edible, Seiji, I am forever in your debt' would be more appropriate."

 

Sai eyed him with a smile. "Do you just spend your free time thinking up ways for people to compliment you?" he teased.

 

"Yes," Ogata returned evenly with a serious expression. 

 

Sai laughed lightly, heading down the hallway to his bedroom. They'd let Hikaru sleep in longer than usual today, hoping the boy would wake up feeling more rested and not quite as zombie-like. Peeking into his room, he noted the way the boy was curled up on his bed, shifting slightly as if trying to hide in the bedcovers. It was remarkably child-like behavior but Sai found it more endearing than annoying.

 

"Hikaru? Are you feeling sick?" Sai was concerned but was obviously trying not to overtly show it.

 

"I'm fine, just sleepy," Hikaru lied, emerging from under his blanket. Sai was smiling at him. The Meijin was already fully-dressed; he'd be leaving earlier than Hikaru today, having been called to the Institute by the administration and also scheduled for an interview with Go Weekly.

 

Sai brushed a hand through Hikaru's bang's, moving long blond strands away from green eyes. "I'll ask Seiji if he can drive you today. You're looking a bit pale," the Meijin said. "The Exams are almost over. Good luck today!"

 

"You too," Hikaru replied, almost cringing away as if hurt by the gentle treatment. Sai retracted his hand, concerned but not willing to breach Hikaru's personal space again. If Hikaru did not want to be touched by him, Sai would respect that.

 

"You'll be fine, Hikaru," Sai said instead, seemingly struggling to reign himself in from using more expressive phrases. Hikaru looked up at him with those shuttered green eyes, as if wondering what words Sai was stopping himself from saying. 

 

"Sai.... Shouldn't you leave soon?" Hikaru asked.

 

Sai's eyes flicked to his watch, expression strangled. "Just in time for rush hour," he muttered, disgruntled. He paused briefly, taking in his charge's exhausted expression as the boy rose from the bed to start getting ready.

 

 _After these Exams are over,_ Sai promised himself. _We'll start anew._

 

* * *

 

 

It was the second to last day of matches and everyone looked they would rather die. If the air of suffering hadn't been quite so thick, perhaps even the Go professionals would have mingled about the first floor to gauge the results; as it was, they were making beelines for the upper floors as the examinees milled about the commons area in various stages of grief.

 

Hikaru had gone to check the board first, eyes landing on _7_ **Fujiwara Hikaru** vs _28_ **Isumi Shinichirou**. His heart immediately sunk to his feet. He'd known it was coming, of course; there were only two matches left, after all, and Isumi would have to be one of them.

 

"Why... Why won't this end..." Nanohara mourned into her hands, the first thing Hikaru got to hear as he breached the doorway. He eyed the woman as he passed, heading towards where his insei friends were gathered at one end of the table.

 

"300 sushi! She ate all 300 by herself, in one sitting! I didn't even know a human body could fit that much sushi into it," Honda recounted in awe. 

 

Nase's look was grim. "This conversation has just started and I already hate it," she admitted plaintively.

 

"Hikaru, good morning!" Isumi called out brightly.

 

All of the insei eyed him strangely, including Hikaru. Isumi did not let that deter him, giving the younger boy a kind smile. For one blinding moment, Hikaru almost thought Isumi was playing some kind of mind-game on him - to lull him into a false sense of security, or something similar? It would not be unheard of, and Sai had mentioned that mind games were another facet to Go matches...

 

But Isumi was Isumi. In light of their last conversation, Hikaru both didn't think the boy capable of playing that dirty and knew he wouldn't be able to match that particular battle of wits right now anyway. 

 

A light smack to his back, and Hikaru turned to face Ochi. The boy garbled out something like a greeting - Hikaru may have been in too much shock at the moment, all he was hearing was static - before shoving something warm into his hands.

 

Hikaru stared down at it. A can of coffee.

 

"Why the hell are you here?" Waya demanded, jumping up.

 

Ochi ignored him. "Matches are in 10 minutes. Are you not awake yet? You look too out of it," Ochi chided, drinking from his own can and peering into Hikaru's face thoughtfully. "If you don't get the energy, you'll make a mistake and might even lose to someone like him." Here, he gestured in Isumi's direction.

 

Isumi's expression had cooled considerably. "Good morning to you as well, Ochi-kun." 

 

Ochi slung a look back at Isumi, coolly assessing and vaguely contemptuous. It was obvious, at least to Isumi, that the younger boy had hoped that either Isumi would break further or that his relationship with Hikaru would shatter completely in the face of what he'd told the older boy in the bathroom. He clearly hadn't anticipated that Isumi would try to understand and mend the bridge between them after the revelation.

 

That alone irked Isumi to no end. That Ochi could so carelessly go around talking about such sensitive topics to Hikaru in order to get an advantage over Isumi was galling. It was as if the boy didn't care about Hikaru's say in the matter; considering it was Hikaru's private business and personal history on the line, Ochi should have known better.

 

"Unfortunate that you're still here," Ochi observed.

 

Isumi stared back at him evenly. "I was thinking the same thing about you," he replied.

 

Waya gaped at him. Nase had leaned over, interest piqued, likely wondering when Isumi had grown a backbone and when his issue with Ochi had completely soured. 

 

Honda took a different approach. "Are you not gonna drink that?" he asked Hikaru, eyes fixated on the coffee can. 

 

Silently, Hikaru pushed the can into Honda's hands.

 

"Hey, it's rude to give away something someone gave you," Ochi snipped. Hikaru took the can of coffee back with a blank look on his face. 

 

"Why is the strongest competitor so dead today?" Ikeshita asked the air.

 

Isumi was frowning. "If Hikaru doesn't like coffee, you shouldn't force him to drink it," he pointed out in the boy's defense.

 

Ochi rose an eyebrow. "He's drunk it before. It's one of his favorites," he retorted.

 

Nase's eyes were shining in obvious glee. Honda, deprived of coffee for the second time this morning - Shirakawa had recently started restricting his intake of 'unhealthy foods', candy and coffee included - turned his attention back to the volley of passive aggressive turning overtly aggressive jabs beings traded between Isumi and Ochi. Waya was rubbing his temples with a sigh.

 

 _If we're trying to find who can be the most obsessed with Hikaru, these guys will have stiff competition,_ Honda thought, remembering the series of text messages between Shirakawa and Touya Akira. He watched as Hikaru opened the warm can of coffee to drink and pretended not to notice Ochi’s victorious look.

 

"We should head to the game hall," Waya suggested, standing with a resigned expression. Isumi could not shake the idea that it wasn't the upcoming matches that put that look on his friend's face.

 

Everyone rose and began to file out, Waya pushing along Hikaru who was drinking his coffee with no clear expression on his face. It was the second to last day of matches, and at this point in time, the winners were mostly clear: Fujiwara Hikaru with zero losses and Ochi Kousuke with one loss. Currently, there were three contenders for the remaining spot: Waya Yoshitaka, Honda Toshinori, and Isumi Shinichirou. 

 

As of today, Isumi felt much more composed after his string of losses and confrontation with Hikaru. He'd set himself in a new direction, found a sort of purpose for change and a goal to reach. He had to be better now: a better son, a better student, a better brother, a better friend. He had not been able to give all of these roles the due consideration they had deserved - he'd favored family to such a degree that he'd emotionally disconnected from his friends, and that was something he would need to change. He would not give up on his family of course, but his friends deserved someone who cared about them as much as they seemed to care about him.

 

Change was hard though; it required painful steps, and sometimes it was either too slow that it felt hopeless or too fast that it knocked the breath out of him. Isumi would have to do it though, because he wanted to change. He wanted to form that emotional connection to someone, care about someone for who they are rather than how they could make him feel more secure as himself. His reliance on others to help him hold his place in the world had been detrimental, and that invisible wall he'd built between himself and others needed to crumble first if he wanted to change himself as a person.

 

Today's match was only one in an endless series of steps he'd need to take. It would decide if he had a fighting chance to become a professional Go player; it would challenge him as a Go player; whether he lost or won, how he reacted to that and Hikaru was one more way to change. 

 

Isumi took his assigned seat, watching with a smile he hoped was encouraging as Hikaru took the one across from him. It was a pointless gesture; Hikaru looked sick, his eyes not really moving from the board as he took a goke. Isumi could not fault him for that - in the end, he felt responsible for putting Hikaru into such a state. If there had been a gentler way to handle the situation between them, Isumi had not considered it; instead now he would have to deal with the fallout of his own decisions.

 

Isumi had to take responsibility. Hikaru felt so insecure right now because he was trying to come to terms with the idea that someone else knew - or thought they knew - about his living situation. Isumi almost wondered if Hikaru hating him would be easier for the younger boy, but Isumi knew better than anyone that hatred never helped anything.

 

 _At least he's passed the Pro Exams,_ Isumi thought, uncapping his goke. Without the possibility of failure hanging over him, there would be one less thing for Hikaru to stress over.

 

With the heavy air between them, Isumi thought he could fight Hikaru with his all. Naturally, taking it easy on him would never have occurred to Hikaru, so Isumi could rest assured knowing he’d be fighting the true monster of the insei class.

 

Taking another look at Hikaru, Isumi felt somewhat uncertain. While most everyone had their similarities to the walking dead, he’d thought Hikaru would look a little more alive considering his place as a future Pro was secure. His sickly and tense visage belied the idea that maybe Isumi’s confrontation wore more down on him than the older boy had first believed.

 

Isumi wished he could tell the younger boy not to worry, but this wasn’t the time or place for platitudes. Instead Isumi placed the first stone, and their game begun.

 

One of the biggest mistakes people made when first facing Hikaru was underestimating him from the beginning. Thinking things like ‘he won’t be that strong’ or ‘even if I make a mistake here, it’s too early to really do any damage’ tended to dominate his opponents' thoughts; but Hikaru was strong, and crafty, and Isumi wouldn’t be able to feel comfortable in his win until Hikaru admitted his defeat aloud.

 

Even if Isumi played strongly from the start, it guaranteed him nothing while facing Hikaru – the younger boy could come from behind, blindsiding his opponent with hands he'd planned 10, 15, 20 moves ago.

 

Hikaru was strong because he hadn’t afforded himself the luxury of weakness. Isumi could only wonder what kind of practice he’d undergone with Fujiwara Meijin as his mentor and Ogata Seiji as his practice partner; neither professional were known for mercy against their opponents. Fujiwara Meijin’s hand was awe-inspiring and beautiful, but there was no room for kindness: his hands weaved in the patters of the stars but they were just as cold and distant as the universe as well.

 

Isumi started strong, trying to gain advantage in the corner before Hikaru could. Despite the clear unease that had plagued Hikaru all morning, in front of the goban, that uncertainty faded once more to the backdrop as they traded hands.

 

Fujiwara Sai was frightening because his strength was overwhelming and constant; Fujiwara Hikaru was frightening because _he had the potential to continue getting stronger_. The Hikaru who sat across from Isumi months ago paled in comparison to the Hikaru now, and Isumi knew this would be true of Hikaru in the future as well.

 

Isumi chose to pincer with his next hand, in order to develop his side quicker and put the pressure on Hikaru. The younger boy never really reacted to threats; most players displayed something, like a disgruntled expression as they tried to think of a proper response or hesitation before they played. Hikaru never showed much of anything; his entire focus was on the board and he played every hand as if he had utmost certainty his moves would work. It made Hikaru's current pause, as he considered his next hand, all the more alarming to Isumi.

 

Hikaru played with a certain ease and confidence that had more to do with facing immeasurable strength on the goban daily rather than arrogance. Nowadays, Isumi believed that may be the repercussion of playing someone like Fujiwara Meijin so often. Even now, in his clearly distressed state, Hikaru remained a strong opponent: Isumi knew he shouldn’t spend too many moves on the right side, as Hikaru’s formation on the left held more potential he needed to consider.

 

It felt like a trap, but Isumi couldn’t see it. That was one of Hikaru’s greatest strengths: his plans were thought of far ahead, sometimes so far and sharp that his opponent couldn’t catch up. It made the balance Isumi had to keep between cautious and aggressive even more difficult.

 

Isumi sacrificed a cluster – there was no point in keeping them, Hikaru was clearly staking claim over the territory on the left. He had to remind himself to calm down but he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Hikaru had a trap planned - but it was too far ahead for Isumi to see. They were on even ground for now - all Isumi had to do was stay afloat long enough and not get caught in what Hikaru had planned.

 

Isumi was able to claim big territory in the corner, but Hikaru had left side territory and was thick over the center. Isumi had moved to strengthen his stones; Hikaru would not to let Isumi live on the right side easily.

 

It was obvious Hikaru still felt shaken from their prior talk. This made his pauses longer but his moves weren't sloppy in the least. Although Isumi had not planned or wanted to face Hikaru while he was so vulnerable, he couldn't help but be awed the boy could play so strongly despite the circumstances. 

 

Isumi made an eye; Hikaru made a well-timed cut.

 

Then again, maybe one of Hikaru's greatest traits was his ability to bounce back despite the odds. Isumi figured maybe he wouldn't have survived otherwise. Considering what Hikaru had gone through just to get to this point, just to participate in these Pro Exams as the adopted child of Fujiwara Meijin...

 

 _Pa-chi._ Isumi stared at his own hand for a moment, betrayed. The stone he'd intended to connect to Hikaru's hands rested on the opposite side of what he'd planned.  _Stupid,_ he thought about himself, his entire body numbing at the mistake. _Why did I go left? I had wanted to go to the right..._

 

Was it because he was overthinking? Because he'd been distracted by Hikaru, by both his Go and his circumstances? Isumi winced but pulled his hand back - there was no taking back a move once it's been played. Hikaru didn't even acknowledge Isumi's blunder, placing his next stone. The sound of his stone hitting the wood was in tune with Isumi's thundering heartbeat, and the older boy watched Hikaru connect with a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

 

Then, bafflingly, Hikaru almost seemed to freeze. Isumi watched his face: those green eyes widened as if seeing the board in a new light, blinking rapidly, processing something at a speed Isumi couldn't even guess.

 

Isumi looked back down at the board, only this time it was his turn to blink rapidly. He thought he remembered- But he could be wrong- 

 

Hikaru was staring at the board too, hand still outstretched over it. Although the stone he had just played was no longer where Isumi had thought it'd been, Hikaru's stillness was more concerning.

 

Hesitantly, Isumi spoke. "Hika-"

 

" _Makemashita_ ," Hikaru murmured. His voice was hollow.

 

Hikaru swiftly cleaned up his stones, not saying anything else as he rose and fled the room. Isumi hurriedly tried to follow but he had to write down their match results first and was delayed doing so. By the time he'd made it out of the match room, Hikaru was long gone; Nanohara mentioned she saw him leave and his shoes no longer present at the entrance verified it.

 

Isumi stalled for a moment by the bulletin board, unsure what to do with himself. He wanted to follow Hikaru - but he didn't know where the boy was heading or where lived. On the other hand, he thought maybe he should let it go: perhaps Hikaru was just upset about his first loss, or that he'd made such a simple mistake. It wasn't anything to get hung up over.

 

That was the line of thought the previous Isumi would have followed though, in order to minimize contact and emotional discomfort. Isumi thought again, trying to puzzle out Hikaru's behavior.

 

He could just be naturally upset.

 

...but Isumi wasn't the only one who thought Go played a role in cementing his own importance. 

 

Isumi took a step back, then turned and started heading further into the Institute. 

* * *

 

 

Waya recorded his win on the game records, mildly comforted. He'd seen an upset Honda wander out earlier - clearly he'd lost his match and also his chances to pass the Pro Exams this time around. This made the competition for the last spot between Waya and Isumi.

 

Thinking about his older friend, Waya checked over the results for his match against Hikaru; the two had finished earlier than Waya had thought they would. Glancing it over, he stilled briefly in shock. He knew Isumi was strong and that Hikaru wasn't exactly in the best form of health right now - but even he had been surprised that Isumi had actually won. 

 

 _I'll have to win the next match if I want to keep the last spot,_ Waya thought, wandering out of the hall. The examinees were starting to breathe a lot easier as the Pro Exams drew to their close; the winners had all but been decided and they only had one more match before they could resume their studying for next year's Exams.

 

He found Honda and Nase in the commons. The two seemed to be chatting rather than studying, despite the open Go study materials between them. They looked up as he approached, chirping out their greetings with light-hearted tones. It seemed that either Honda had recovered from his loss or was saving that breakdown for later. At this point, Waya couldn't tell - he'd lost the confidence in his accurate judgment of his friends after witnessing the fallout between Isumi and Hikaru.

 

"Just you two?" Waya asked.

 

"Fuku left after his match for family errands, and I'm assuming Hikaru did too since I didn't see his shoes in the entrance," Nase answered.

 

Honda cantered a look over at the girl. "You recognize his shoes?" he asked in disbelief.

 

"I've seen him wear those boots before," Nase waved off. 

 

That was likely a fashion thing. Waya didn't really want to revisit that topic thread; he'd been caught in the crossfire only once, when Nase and Hikaru had started arguing over shoe brands. They'd turned on him quickly enough, pointing out his 'disastrous lack of ability to match any fashion trend.' ("Do you think camo matches everything?" Hikaru had asked him, frowning as if personally offended.) Waya was stressed enough as is.

 

"Did you see the results of his and Isumi's match?" Nase asked.

 

Waya nodded. "Isumi won," he said.

 

Honda frowned. "Isumi is strong, but..."

 

But no one had really thought he'd be able to beat Hikaru.

 

"Hikaru's been out of it for awhile now," Nase pointed out. "And with Isumi's change in attitude... I think maybe he has something to do with it."

 

Waya frowned at the girl. "Isumi didn't sabotage him," he said defensively.

 

"I didn't say he did," Nase returned evenly.

 

Honda glanced between them, uncomfortable. "...does this have something to do with how they've been acting during the Exams?" he asked.

 

"Yes," Nase said, at the same time Waya replied with "It's a personal problem." 

 

They traded another heated look. Honda didn't pretend to understand. "Well, at least Isumi will be happy with how things have turned out," Honda offered. If the morning was anything to go by, Isumi didn't have any lingering animosity for their newest friend, and he'd even won his match today. Things only seemed to be looking up for the oldest insei.

* * *

 

 

Isumi's heart was hammering in his chest; the air felt thick, thicker even moreso than when he'd first found Hikaru in their grandparents' home. This time there wasn't a buffer, nor was Isumi just an innocent bystander caught in the middle of a heated exchange. Instead, he'd have to take the brunt of the pressure, which was one thing he often had trouble handling. 

 

Isumi was scared. He was scared he would be yelled at, or hated, or be on the receiving end of someone's contemptuous glare. Fujiwara Sai wasn't just some aloof stranger; the man held power, both socially and financially. He had such a presence that even the litigation his stepfather had been pursuing had been stalled indefinitely, every avenue available closed so that his step-father only hit repetitive dead-ends. Fujiwara wasn't just intimidating as a Go player, he was terrifying in all aspects. 

 

But more than his own fear for himself, Isumi was scared for Hikaru.

 

His hesitance faded with every hurried step he took, replaced by adrenaline as he went up floor by floor, checking every room. He missed some greetings here and there, gained some strange looks, and apologized when his frenzied searching led him into running into people or being rude. But still he looked, because it was important, because Hikaru was important to him too.

 

Isumi didn't know if what he was doing now would help, if his help would even be wanted by the concerned parties. Hikaru could be perfectly fine, if a little dejected by his loss. Isumi could be doing something completely unnecessary, could be making an absolute fool of himself for such dramatic actions.

 

But Isumi didn't want to brush it off like he always did before. He didn't want to have to acknowledge in retrospect that he could have done something beforehand to help, didn't want to regret his inaction because he was trying to save face or his ego. How many times had he turned away like a coward, only to save himself some minor discomfort? He didn't want to be weak like that again. 

 

Isumi found Fujiwara Meijin on the fifth floor; apparently he'd just finished an interview with Amano, as both were standing and only making pleasant conversation. They shared the room with Ogata, who was leaned against a table waiting for Fujiwara to finish, and Amano's intern who hovered closer and closer to the door.

 

They'd looked up at his entrance, Amano rather surprised but Isumi gave him little notice as he'd zeroed in on Fujiwara. The man's violet eyes had widened at his arrival, a small frown on his lips upon recognizing him; Fujiwara glanced over Isumi's shoulder as if looking for someone else, but upon finding no one, turned his attention back to the boy.

 

Isumi steeled himself. He knew his stepfather was currently trying to put Fujiwara through hell, with his attempts of regaining custody or even trying to visit Hikaru. His stepfather may not bring it up often at home while Isumi was noticeably present, but the insei had overheard enough of his parents' conversations to gauge what lack of progress Shindou Masao was making in his fight against the Fujiwara.

 

"Isumi-kun?' Fujiwara Meijin asked uncertainly. 

 

Amana looked between them, interest peaked. "You know him, Fujiwara-sensei?"

 

"He's an insei," Ogata cut in briskly. His tone seemed to suggest that Amano not get the wrong idea.

 

Isumi didn't have time for their power politics though. "He made a mistake and resigned," Isumi rushed out; his heart thundered even louder in his own ears but he tried to be brave in the face of Hikaru's guardian. The emotions that moved over Fujiwara Sai's face were too numerous to accurately pinpoint, but Isumi felt cold flush down his neck in response.

 

Ogata looked over at Amano, irritated. "The interview is over, isn't it?" he asked gruffly.

 

Amano blinked; the intern flinched, getting closer to the door. "Ah, yes, sorry... I was just interested. Are we talking about someone in the Pro Exams?" 

 

It felt as if the room had dropped more than ten degrees. Isumi wondered how Amano could even breathe in the face of Ogata's glower. Isumi was reminded of when the ninth-dan had slammed his stepfather against a brick wall for a moment, tensing briefly. 

 

"Resigned?" Fujiwara echoed, clearly surprised. Isumi could understand that; with someone with such a spotless record, Isumi didn't think Hikaru would ever have made such an error. 

 

"It wasn't- It wasn't even a full game-" Isumi stammered. 

 

Fujiwara's voice was measured - and cold. "Where is he?" he asked.

 

"He left," Isumi breathed out.

 

"It's just one match, and technically he's already passed the Exams," Fujiwara murmured, almost to himself. 

 

"It's my fault," Isumi spoke up. He cringed when Fujiwara's eyes snapped back to him. "I-I brought up something I shouldn't have, and after that he's been so out of it... It must have affected his gameplay, he just made a small mistake and..."

 

Isumi would have been blind not to see how shaken Hikaru was the whole day. He'd thought a match would have affirmed something to the boy, drawn up the common ground between them once more to settle the remnant resentments. Instead, it was possible that Hikaru's mistake on the board had been the straw to break the camel's back, and Isumi didn't know how to fix it.

 

Amano shifted. Isumi glared over at him. Why was the Go Weekly reporter still here? This wasn't even a Go-related issue. The intern was already halfway out the door at this point.

 

"Maybe he went home?" Ogata suggested. His usual harsh tone was surprisingly void of barbs. "One loss doesn't change anything."

 

Fujiwara seemed to almost agree, before his eyes blew open wide and he swiveled to face Ogata with such a look of horror that everyone could only stare back at him.

 

"The moving boxes..." Fujiwara said, shaken.

 

* * *

 

 

Opening the door to the apartment, Hikaru toed off his shoes at the entrance without really taking a good look around. His stomach was growling but he felt too sick with nerves to eat, so instead he trudged towards the bedroom. 

 

_I lost I lost I lost I lost I lost-_

 

A nap first, and then he could get up in time to start making dinner, hoping against hope that at least that developed skill would come in handy.

 

It had been his mistake. To think he'd falter over such a simple move; the loss stung. The idea that he may have inadvertently cheated hurt an extra hundredfold - to cheat on the game Sai had taught him, no matter how unintentional it had been, was like some great betrayal of honor. Hikaru had never really believed himself to have any honor after all he'd done, still held what little he had left in his Go; it was the only thing he'd learned that he could excel in, the only thing where he really felt he had any worth. 

 

_I cheated I lost I cheated I lost I cheated I lost-_

 

But against Isumi - someone who Hikaru knew well, someone he had been deliberately been practicing to go against - the loss was more stark, more severe in its backlash. He had lost because he was weak, he had made that fatal mistake because he was lacking - there was no excuses to be made for him and Sai would know that.

_Worthless I'm worthless I'm worthless I'm worthless_ -

 

Hikaru had only just entered the bedroom when he stopped abruptly,  eyes having landed on the two boxes standing in the middle of the room. They were hardly filled, but drawing closer, Hikaru saw their contents: his summer wardrobe and some of his games and the like, packed neatly into the cardboard container. 

 

Logically, there were many reasons Hikaru's things were being packed away. For one, Sai could be putting them away in storage for when they came back in season; for another, donations - he hardly ever played the video games and no one had touched any of Rizumu's leftover toys, and Hikaru would outgrow those clothes by the next summer anyway. 

 

There were plenty of reasons. It could mean nothing. Hikaru could call Sai and ask why his things were being packed, or wait for the man to return home, or ask Seiji if he didn't want to talk to Sai, or-

 

But Hikaru had lost, and he was worthless if he did not win.

 

It was a moment so clear, Hikaru thought the world had suddenly shifted into a different color spectrum; everything was brighter, painfully so, and he almost couldn't bear to see anymore. When the world crashed down around him, it wasn't like glass shattering - it was more like a hairline fracture that grew steadily wider, swallowing more and more of him until it felt like he'd lost the ability of autonomous movement.

 

His breath sped up- and then slowed down - and then air seemed to disappear altogether. His ears were ringing, head slowly being crushed by the weight of his realization, and his eyes were too dry despite the sob slowing inching its way up his throat from his heart. His hands felt clammy with sweat, his vision hazy and unable to focus on anything in particular as his mind skittered here and there, cringing away from the reality.

 

Hikaru had lost, and so Sai was throwing him away.

 

The cruelest thing was that some part of Hikaru had always expected it. To have it verified before him bolstered that part, to look at these boxes and think 'I knew he was just like them' and find solace in the idea that the world was just as terrible as Hikaru had always known it to be. 

 

He would go back to the Gate, back to Masaki, back to Itsuka and dark rooms and men that frightened him. He would go back and choke on the ashes of their cigarettes, to hating the smell of hotel room sheets and the people who avoided looking at him as he walked alone out of those rooms, bruised and worn. 

 

Hate, unfettered and debilitating, swelled up in Hikaru. If Sai was going to throw him away anyway, then why did he ever try to save him at all? It was too cruel - better to kill the bird with broken wings then keep it alive knowing it will never fly again. This was why being someone's pity pet was useless; it compounded the worthlessness, verified the idea that you were too pathetic to leave alone but too useless to love.

 

For a long moment, Hikaru hated Sai. In the next, that hate had turned inwards - because if Hikaru had not lost, if Hikaru could actually mean something as a human being, then of course Sai would never throw him away. In the end, wasn't it just Hikaru's fault - that he couldn't be loved, that he couldn't succeed, that he couldn't do anything but make mistakes over and over?

 

His father had thrown him away, and sought reparation only to save face with his new family. His mother had thrown him away, because she no longer loved him.

 

Sai had thrown him away, because loving Hikaru was a mistake to begin with.

 

 _Leave_ , his instincts told him. 

 

 _Leave_ , his heart agreed. 

 

 _Leave, and run, and never look back,_ Hikaru thought.

 

His body trembled from head to toe, and sunk in on itself; his legs failed to hold his weight any longer, and he dropped down into a crouch, head tucked between his knees and hands fisted in his hair. He almost wanted to tear it out but lacked the strength to do so, instead locking into place. Heat and cold rapidly washed over his body in quick exchanges, and his lips parted as if ready to start the familiar mantra.

 

The words did not come.

 

The front door opened, a low creak on used hinges that signaled someone's arrival. No one called out but it would have been for naught even if they had - the boy couldn't hear anything anymore.

 

Hikaru emitted a small sob, which evolved into a low wail, then finally into a budding scream.

 

And then he just kept screaming.

 

* * *

 

 

Calling and messaging Hikaru proved fruitless. Sai stared blankly at his phone's screen, palms sweaty. Once again, he felt useless; once again, he felt like he'd failed Hikaru. He was never aware enough, could never predict Hikaru's actions quick enough before the boy did something harmful to himself.

 

 _It's just one match_ , Sai wanted to say. But that wasn't right, because it implied that passing the Pro Exam was the crux of the matter. It wasn't.

 

 _It's just Go,_ he could say. But that wasn't right, because Go meant so much to them both, and implying otherwise would be a lie. But Go wasn't the crux of the matter either.

 

_I'm sorry I didn't say anything earlier- You don't have to be a Pro- I would never leave you because you lost-_

 

The words came, a thousand and one apologies and justifications. Just as Sai had been, they were useless.

 

_I love you- I'm sorry, I love you- I love you-_

 

His phone beeped with an incoming text message. The moment he recognized the name, white hot fury seeped into his bones, only to be replaced by stark and unrelenting terror as he read the message.

 

_From: Fujiwara Mitsuo_

_If you don't take good care of what you love, it will break._

* * *

 

 

 **A/N** : Pro Exam Arc ended, on to the... Fujiwara Arc? (╯✧▽✧)╯Anyway, a deeper look into Hikaru's mindset will be delved into next chapter, because there is _a lot going_ on in there.

I thought this chapter would be like so short... Then 12k words later, me looking back wondering wtf happened...

Oh, just in case: I don't intend for there to be an IsumiWaya pairing. I just think it's pretty normal to find your friends beautiful, so don't read too deeply into that. ;)

 _Edit note_ : I had mistaken Isumi's age for 15 in a previous chapter for... reasons still unclear to me. Anyway, just as in canon, Isumi is 18 years old. I knew that, but still I... ლ(ಠ_ಠ ლ)

 

_Please be kind and **drop a comment.**_

  

 

 

 

* * *

 


	26. Tattered Ribbons

**A/N** : Thank you for waiting so patiently, everyone! (Are you all just too used to my habit of dropping of the face of the earth now??) I'll try to reply to every comment from last chapter, so thank you for both the comments and kudos! (◕‿◕)♡

**Disclaimer** : I do not own Hikaru no Go.

**Pairings** : Ditto the last.

**Warnings** : Mitsuo-ness.

* * *

   **Chapter 23**

_Tattered Ribbons_

* * *

 

"You should eat something."

 

Hikaru stared at the proffered food mulishly. Truth be told, he just didn't think he could; his mouth felt locked shut and his stomach was violently protesting the idea that anything be added to it. His nerves had been frayed too severely, numbness having settled over his mind for a good hour or two now - he wasn't sure how long it'd been honestly - so that all he could do was stare despondently at whoever talked to him.

 

Annoyingly, this didn't seem to bother anyone who interacted with him. The man sitting at his desk was idly flipping through a book - it looked like a serial graphic novel, of all things - and wasn't paying him much attention. Hikaru had been laid out on a bed, and while that normally would have sent him into a panic - after everything, he wasn't sure his body had enough energy left _to_ panic. Not to mention that the door was kept wide open and Hikaru could hear people moving about up and down the hallway, some occasionally stepping inside the room to tidy up or change the platter of food to a new meal, always left on the foot of the enormous bed Hikaru was sitting up in.

 

"Or maybe you don't like Japanese cuisine?" the man continued. The cuisine point was moot. They'd been going through every cuisine - they were on Japanese cuisine now after both Chinese and French failed to entice him. The man always spoke in a calm, even tone, but he had a way of speaking that felt more as if he were talking to himself rather than Hikaru. He'd introduced himself as Nishino, and according to the man - he would be responsible for making sure Hikaru felt comfortable, where ever this was. Nishino hadn't exactly been forthcoming about that.

 

Nishino pushed the button for the intercom system. "That's a no on Japan. You guys know he's only twelve, right? Bring up junk food," he suggested. That criticism probably had to do with the fact that all the meals they had brought up recently were hopelessly decadent.

 

A pause, and then the intercom buzzed. _"Like a burger?"_ came the inquiry.

 

The man rolled his eyes. "Yes, like a burger. Or ramen. Or just rob a vending machine, I don't know - junk food, people!" he replied.

 

Another pause, and then the intercom buzzed again. _"Can you ask Bocchan what he wants? Kids shouldn't just be eating junk food, y'know,"_ came the chastisement.

 

Nishino practically slammed the call button. "Arata, I swear to god, I'll-"

 

"Nishino-kun."

 

Nishino stopped abruptly, moving away from the intercom almost guiltily. Hikaru, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, found his attention arrested by the figure now standing in the doorway.

 

Fujiwara Mitsuo entered the room, gaze steady as he moved to Hikaru's bedside. "Hikaru-kun, how are you feeling?" he asked kindly.

 

Hikaru stared at him. Just when he'd thought he'd reached his emotional zenith, it turned out he could still feel overwhelming dread if pushed. "Fu- Um, uh..." What did he call the man? They weren't related but he'd been adopted into the family, so technically-

 

No, wait, Sai was throwing him away. Didn't Fujiwara Mitsuo know that? Or had he not yet been informed? Looking into those familiar violet eyes, Hikaru felt as if a loud buzzing sound was crawling up inside him, drawing closer to his eyes and ears.

 

Sai was leaving him-

Sai was leaving him-

_Sai was leaving him-_

 

Hikaru choked on his sob but a new wave of tears broke forth no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. They spilled fresh and hot down his face, and he tried to turn away to hide them but Mitsuo laid a hand on his shoulder to halt his movements.

 

"Hikaru..." Mitsuo started, looking thoughtful. 

 

"D-Don't touch me," Hikaru snapped back, snot-clogged noise slurring his words. He couldn't stop crying no matter how hard he tried; everything hurt, every part of him he hadn't realized could even feel pain was alight in agony. "Don't touch me, we're not anything, Sai isn't- _Sai-"_

 

Sai was abandoning him. Hikaru couldn't say it out loud because then it would feel too real. Even though he'd seen it with his own eyes, saying it out loud felt too inevitable, felt too absolute. Sai was leaving him because Hikaru had lost, because Hikaru could not be loved - hadn't he learned that?

 

Hadn't he learned the only type of love he'd ever receive?

 

Hikaru vividly remembered the touch of Amekura. 

 

Hikaru's cries turned into uncontrollable sobbing and he couldn't hear anything anyone was saying to him now. Some part of him wanted to lash out, to get angry at the world in general for playing with him like this - but he was too tired and he hurt too much to do much more than try to curl into a ball and cry his heart out. He almost started heaving from the emotional onslaught but there was nothing in his stomach to sick up. His head felt weighed down, dizziness ringing behind his eyes and disorienting him in his own skin. This wasn't him, not really, it couldn't be- Had he always been this pitiful, had he always been this weak?

 

Oddly enough, Mitsuo had yet to let him go. 

 

In fact, the man was now holding him by one arm; the touch was gentle but controlled - he wasn't letting go of Hikaru any time soon, and instead seemed to be trying to pull the boy closer to him. The man was now perched on the side of the bed, steadily pulling Hikaru closer until he'd managed to wrap the boy in a loose embrace. Hikaru screamed, attempting to propel himself backwards but his body wouldn't agree with him. His limbs were heavy, his breathing labored, and it was as if his throat was trying to regurgitate the bloody pieces of his heart that were seemingly crawling up his throat.

 

"Hikaru, you're safe now," Mitsuo repeated, over and over; the words tried to pierce through the haze of Hikaru's frantic thoughts and increased the hurt a hundredfold. It was just such a wholly Sai sentiment that Hikaru burst into a fresh bout of tears. He tried to squirm free but Mitsuo wouldn't let him go, even when Hikaru tried hitting him where he could. But Hikaru's strength was fleeting and instead he just let himself cry and cry into Mitsuo's chest until his energy had all but vanished, and Hikaru sagged quietly into Mitsuo's arms.

 

Nishino frowned, setting his book to the side. He'd been careful not to approach Hikaru the entire time to avoid all that had just transpired. "That's the second time he's passed out," he pointed out to his employer. The first time had been when they'd entered Mitsuo's son's apartment and found the child screaming into his knees. He'd passed out when Kawai tried to shake him out of it, apparently too emotionally spent to react to their intruding presence.

 

"Hikaru's going through a bit of a tough time right now," Mitsuo observed with his ever-present smile, hands stroking through black strands of hair. The gesture was comforting and familial, and to any outside observer, would have seemed like such a fatherly (or grandfatherly, as this case may be) thing to do.

 

Nishino was not an outsider, having long grown accustomed to the relations of the Fujiwara. "We'll need to hook him up to an IV if he doesn't eat something in the next 12 hours," he said instead. 

 

Mitsuo glanced about. They had put Hikaru in one of the guest rooms but the room was used mostly for show given its close proximity to the ground floor. They'd been having employees routinely walking up and down the hallway and going in the room for rehearsed actions, to give Hikaru the impression that he wasn't stranded alone in a room with a man he'd never met. 

 

"Check if they've finished preparing Hikaru's bedroom upstairs," Mitsuo ordered. The employees had been tasked with setting up a personal room for Hikaru when Kawai had come back with him; it would have far more entertainment and personal touches then the currently formal guest room he occupied. This would be the first time the house had a seemingly permanent Fujiwara under 18 years of age. 

 

Nishino departed, leaving Mitsuo to tuck Hikaru back into bed. He was hit with a wave of nostalgia; he'd done similar for Sai back when he was younger, in the rare times he wasn't occupied with work. Sai had adored it, so much so that Mitsuo wanted to be there every night for his son. His work kept him away more times than not, however, and Sai instead would be left with only his mother to say goodnight to. Mitsuo could only guess at what that might have been like: perhaps his wife had done as he did, tucking their child into bed with soft words and warm smiles. Or perhaps she hadn't even bothered to acknowledge her only child, laying in her bed as silent as a doll.

 

"Sai used to cry himself to sleep too," Mitsuo said quietly, brushing delicate fingers through Hikaru's blond fringe. "But unlike Sai, you'd probably hate to be held for comfort."

 

They were remarkably unalike. Hikaru was visceral and cutting, prone to thorns and vitriol; he'd sooner expect the worst from anyone who interacted with him than believe in help. But he put himself out there, in a way Sai had never been able to do - he made friends, whether he trusted them or not; he interacted with others despite his reservations, he sought out personal connections even when he knew they would not last. 

 

_Weak_ , Mitsuo thought, brushing away the tear tracks on Hikaru's cheeks. Hikaru relied on others to an extent where he was hurt more often than not. But still- there was strength in a person who could climb back up again.

 

Mitsuo could use that. 

* * *

 

When Hikaru next woke up, it was again to the sight of Nishino reading his book but this time set in a different room. 

 

It was larger than the room he'd previously been in, and it took Hikaru a long moment to remember what had happened before he'd slipped into unconsciousness. Humiliation burned on his cheeks as he recalled his minor breakdown in Mitsuo's arms; perhaps that's why he'd been moved? It didn't explain why his room had gotten an upgrade - shouldn't they have just dumped him in some random alleyway? It's not like the Fujiwara family had any business with him anymore.

 

Tears pooled in his eyes and it took a few minutes of hitched breathing and rough rubbing at his eyes for the fresh wave of sadness to pass. Nishino was quiet through the whole thing, although his attention had moved from his book to Hikaru now.

 

"Are you hungry?" Nishino asked, after it looked like Hikaru wouldn't burst into tears at the slightest provocation.

 

Hikaru did not respond.

 

Nishino's composure did not waver. "You have gone nearly a whole day without eating. Coupled with the stress you are currently under, your health will continue to deteriorate," he explained. His no-nonsense tone was comforting, to an extent; couched in medical terms and said with professional ease, it was easy to believe Nishino was a doctor rather than some stranger invested in his well-being. 

 

"I can make you something light but you must eat," Nishino said.

 

Hikaru wanted to burrow under the covers but didn't want to have Nishino out of sight. "It doesn't matter," he replied in a small voice. 

 

"It does," Nishino retorted. He stood, moving over to the desk where another intercom waited. He placed an order of chicken consommé with only a brief verbal threat to the chef at the other end, before resuming his seat and turning watchful eyes back onto Hikaru.

 

Hikaru pretended not to notice, letting his eyes wander over the room. The bed he was on was Queen-sized, draped in comfortable dark blue sheets with a thick white comforter swamping him. The room itself was in shades of burnt charcoal gray, white, and bronze. Two small loveseats in dark shades of grey were lined against the wall, a small table set between them with a tall vase of what appeared to be wisteria flower petals filled inside. On the other side of the room was a small desk area, where a wide, modern desk rested – the shelves were filled with study materials, and the top of the desk had a winding lamp and an assortment of school supplies. The carpet itself was plush and gray, spread throughout the generous floor space. There was a step up into a nook separated by a sliding paper door, left half-open so that a small tatami room where a goban and small bookshelf sat. There were another two doors – one was left open, the quiet hallway lit by some unseen luminescence.

 

Hikaru wanted to ask when he'd be kicked out but the words were stuck in his throat. If he asked, then he'd get an answer, and he wasn't sure he could handle that right now. He was torn - most of him wanted to leave but the rational part of him realized that he had nowhere to go. 

 

_Sai did not want him._

 

"Hikaru-sama."

 

Hikaru looked over at Nishino, green eyes wide. The track of his thoughts had set his heart rate escalating and his breaths had started to speed up, but at Nishino's interruption, his body halted its advance to another panic attack. Nishino proved a welcome, if somewhat terrifying, distraction.

 

Nishino cocked his head in thought. "Do you know where you are?" he asked after a moment of consideration.

 

Hikaru stared at him, trying to parse out if that was a trick question. Is there a wrong answer? Why was Nishino asking? Did he think Hikaru knew too much, which was why they hadn't thrown him out yet?

 

"I," Hikaru hesitated. Nishino was only watching him calmly. "I'm at... a house that belongs to Fujiwara-san?"

 

It had to belong to Mitsuo; it didn't make sense for him to be sequestered away in some stranger’s house. Hikaru didn't know why Fujiwara Mitsuo had chosen to lock him away; Hikaru knew nothing about the Fujiwara family outside of a few names. The only one with horrible secrets to hide was Hikaru.

 

"That's right," Nishino nodded gamely. "This is the Fujiwara main house, actually."

 

Hikaru's blood turned cold. There was no adequate reason as to why Hikaru was here. None that made sense to him, anyway. 

 

"And this," Nishino said, motioning to the room at large. "Is _your_ room."

 

The words echoed in Hikaru's head. Nishino only continued to watch him, nonplussed by the lack of reaction. Mostly because Hikaru didn't know how to react; there were too many unanswered questions and Hikaru couldn't hope to discern one for the next considering the chaotic state of his mind.

 

Sai did not want him.

 

Sai did not want him, and Hikaru was at the Fujiwara main house.

 

Sai did not want him, and Mitsuo had hugged Hikaru until his sobbing had drained the last of his energy.

 

Sai did not want him, and Hikaru now had his own bedroom at the main house.

 

"I don't understand," Hikaru said, voice small. What did Fujiwara Mitsuo want him for? Hikaru had very limited abilities, and of those abilities - the only time an adult had been pleased with him, it had left Hikaru feeling more like an expendable toy than a person.

 

Hikaru shuddered, curling in on himself. What did Fujiwara Mitsuo want? Did he know what Hikaru was before Sai? If he _did_ , and that was why he had brought Hikaru here...

 

Sai did not want him. Who was to stop him?

 

What choice did Hikaru have?

 

"You're his grandson."

 

Nishino's voice cut through the frenzy, clean and clear. His tone had not changed from its factual set, his face remained impassive - as if this was common knowledge he was sharing, as if Hikaru should have known all this and come to the correct conclusion.

 

"Those under the direct line of the Fujiwara will always have a room at the main house," Nishino explained candidly. "Sai-sama's room is next to this one, and Mitsuo-sama's is further down the hall."

 

Hikaru's grip on the blanket tightened, tears once again threatening to fall. His confusion was painful; his heart felt like it was being squeezed in a hand made of fire and the stress of every waking moment was coiling tight at his temples, stabbing painfully behind his eyes. 

 

"I don't understand," Hikaru repeated. Nishino did not respond, expression thoughtful as he ruminated. There was a knock at the door that startled Hikaru so badly he'd hit the headboard, although Nishino only called out a curt order to enter. 

 

Hikaru had been half-expecting Mitsuo to enter again, or even another maid ready to clean an already spotless room - but instead, a young man entered. He was likely the same age as Aian, with a shock of close-cropped bleached white hair and narrow eyes. He was dressed comfortably in black slacks and a white button-up with a sunflower yellow knit cardigan. A jaunty, rainbow-colored nametag was pinned to his chest, proclaiming his name to be ‘Kiyoharu’ in bubbled hiragana. He was carrying a tray of what Hikaru assumed to be the consommé Nishino had ordered for him, along with a tall glass of orange juice, a slice of strawberry shortcake, and several small candies.

 

Nishino clicked his tongue. "Why are there so many sweets?" he asked briskly. "I only ordered soup for him."

 

The teen glanced at Nishino, giving a small shrug. "Arata-san said that just because Nishino-san has been a bitter old man since he was a kid, doesn't mean Hikaru-sama is the same," he replied blithely, Kansai accent evident in his words.

 

Nishino muttered what sounded like a death threat under his breath. The teen had turned to Hikaru, a lax smile in place as he placed the tray of edibles at the foot of his bed. He wasn't as careful with himself as Nishino was, but he didn't seem at all perturbed to find Hikaru with red-rimmed eyes and looking disgustingly wrung-out. 

 

"Hikaru-sama, good afternoon!" he said, and then to Nishino's irritation and Hikaru's bewilderment, actually took a seat next to the tray. "I'm Yashiro Kiyoharu, but you can just call me Kiyoharu. Everyone does, except for Nishino because he thinks he sounds meaner when he uses surnames."

 

"Yashiro, I'll fire you," Nishino swore.

 

Yashiro grinned, leaning forward conspirationally. "Ask me anything you want about the house! I know all the gossip, that's why he can't fire me-"

 

"We do not gossip-" Nishino tried to interject in an affronted tone.

 

Yashiro steamrolled on, "-and I'm here like, all the time. Except after 9PM, because then I have to go home and pretend I have a life outside of this place and let's be real, I don't-"

 

Nishino groaned. "What useless things are you saying now?"

 

Yashiro winked, leaning back to recline more comfortably on the bed. He looked completely at ease despite the previous tension in the atmosphere, but that was almost a distant dream to Hikaru now. With Yashiro now in the room, Hikaru felt some of his apprehension fade just a bit; Yashiro was closer in age and didn't have the same polite reservation carried by the other staff members. His self-assurance was new, and the way he carried himself was different from the likes of Kishimoto, Tsutsui, or even Kaga; his air was not meant to impose, or calm, or even threaten. Yashiro was more like- a taste of something far more curious...

 

Hikaru wondered what his job was, though; he stayed rather late but he clearly did not have a uniform on, and he looked too young to hold a more official job besides. The other employees - the maids who cleaned the room and the employees who had previously brought him his food - had all been dressed in clean uniforms. The only thing even remotely professional on Yashiro was his nametag, but that looked like he had done it himself out of boredom or in preparation for a class of kindergarteners. What possible use had Fujiwara Mitsuo found for the white-haired boy?

 

"I have some errands to take care of so Yashiro will be staying with you," Nishino explained to Hikaru, standing. 

 

Yashiro was his babysitter? Hikaru would have been more insulted, if he hadn't been so looking forward to a reprieve from Nishino's knowing stares.

 

Nishino seemed to understand the look on Hikaru's face. "...we think you're a flight risk, Hikaru-sama," he explained. "For your own health and safety, we need to be sure of your whereabouts. You will not be watched so carefully the whole time you are here; however, we are expecting a visitor this evening and we don't want anyone to disturb you while you're resting."

 

So what was Yashiro then, his guard dog? Hikaru glanced back over at the teen, but none of this seemed to be news to him. Yashiro had popped a piece of gum into his mouth and was chewing happily, content to let Nishino explain their reasoning and his purpose. He matched Hikaru's look after a moment, smile widening even as Hikaru glanced away.

 

"Once you're done eating, I can give you the grand tour," Yashiro promised him brightly. "It's just the staff here right now, but it's better than being cooped up in this room all day!"

 

Yashiro, apparently, had no qualms about tugging Hikaru along. As soon as the boy had finished what the older male thought to be an adequate amount of the food he'd brought in, he'd half-dragged Hikaru out of bed and out the door. The grand tour of the Fujiwara main house took a little over an hour, although most of the time was spent with Yashiro introducing him to passing employees or telling him random anecdotes as they traversed the property. Hikaru was allowed to freely roam the premises, Yashiro had explained; the only place off-limits was Mitsuo's office, for business-related reasons. 

 

Yashiro had pulled Hikaru through multiple rooms: guest rooms, living rooms, a large kitchen, dining room, library and study, several guest bathrooms. _(“There are more bathrooms than bedrooms,”_ Yashiro had said with a snort.) There was an expansive backyard with its own pond and bridge, the garden laid out like a traditional Japanese courtyard. Hikaru noticed there was wisteria vined all throughout the garden, thinking not for the first time that there was a certain element of theatricality inherent in the Fujiwara line.

 

Yashiro had also introduced Hikaru to the staff, or at least the ones who were considered core employees. Hikaru could finally put a face to the voice over the intercom; the chef, Arata, was around Nishino's age, but with a rougher look about him. He'd slipped Hikaru a few extra pieces of candy during the walk-through, jaunty smile in place. Hikaru didn't have the heart or confidence to tell him that he didn't like sweets that much.

 

“Most of the employees are attending to other estates, so we’re running on a bare bones crew,” Yashiro explained. “Boss thinks it’s better for the house not to be too crowded right now.”

 

Hikaru blinked. “How many employees usually work here?” he asked.

 

Yashiro shrugged. “It depends on if the Boss is staying here or not. When he’s not here, we only have a maid service and a gardener come in once a week. When he is here, though, there’s usually about fifteen or so people crawling all over the place.”

 

That many unknown people just being around made Hikaru’s skin crawl. Still, he said nothing about it; whatever lifestyle Fujiwara Mitsuo had was none of Hikaru’s concern.

 

But then- why had Mitsuo sent his employees away?

 

* * *

 

Evening passed quietly in the Fujiwara estate. Hikaru had not come down for dinner, but to be fair, Mitsuo had not expected him to; Nishino explained that Yashiro had taken Hikaru around the grounds for most of the day, and for someone who'd spent most of the past 24 hours in extreme emotional turmoil, a brisk walk with Yashiro would be like running a marathon nonstop. So Mitsuo took his meal alone, then retreated to his office to go through some more documents for work so as to not waste the time. He couldn't help but count down the minutes though, each tick-tock of the clock warming something inside of him.

 

Mitsuo didn't need Nishino to enter the study at a brisk pace to know - Sai was finally here.

 

It was obvious in the general upshift of movement of the employees, an obvious contrast to the relaxed state they had been in for most of the day. Unlike Hikaru - a child they could watch out for and handle, with the same grace and caution someone would use when dealing with a jittery new pet - the staff did not quite know how to deal with Mitsuo's son. Not that they hadn’t guessed the reasons behind Sai's abhorrence for his family, but they also knew it wasn't their place to cast judgment for it. They maintained a polite but distant station to the inner workings of the Fujiwara family, and let Sai's laden contempt slide off them easily.

 

"He's brought Ogata Seiji," Nishino informed him. "They're both waiting in the reception room."

 

The reception room was large and airy, but also the most closely guarded; it's where the staff brought visitors that they knew shouldn't be allowed to wander independently. It was an intelligent move, likely under Nishino's choice - Sai may be family but they needed to restrict his access to Hikaru first. It was how they could maintain the upper hand with Mitsuo's volatile son.

 

Ogata Seiji was an expected addition. Mitsuo, of course, knew all about his son's beloved friend; the man was a fellow Go professional, and because he came from a humble background he was very self-sufficient. It had been noted by Kawai and the others that there was a noticeable uptick in the amount of time Ogata now spent around Sai (and Hikaru, by extension); and although it was only speculation, Mitsuo would have to be stupid to think it meant nothing.

 

Mitsuo didn't much care about such things. Love was an emotion that could not be restricted or shaped. Who Sai chose to love and how he chose to show it was not Mitsuo's concern, and no matter what - he would always find Sai to be endearing, whether he chose to love a man or a woman or someone in-between, whether he chose to love at all, whether his choices made him happy or miserable.

 

Still, they'd have to get a guarantee that Ogata wouldn't go around talking about Fujiwara family affairs, no matter how this ended. Reconnaissance showed that Ogata wasn't really the type that gossiped about his former relationships even if they ended badly, but just to be sure, they'd have to ensure Ogata couldn't talk.

 

Mitsuo entered the reception room, catching sight of his son first: Sai was standing still at the corner of the large meeting table, posture tensed but not obviously so; it was nice to see his etiquette lessons had paid off in some capacity. Showing a more overt tense posture would have given Mitsuo even more of an upper hand in this situation, and Sai clearly had no desire to do that. Mitsuo was even more amused to find that Ogata had seemingly subconsciously followed the directive, hands in his pockets and looking calm but irritated. 

 

"You look ill, Sai," Mitsuo greeted, eyes on his son's face. Sai had dark circles, likely from staying up all night last night in his frenzy demanding Mitsuo return Hikaru. Mitsuo had toyed with the idea of withholding Hikaru from Sai for longer, seeing as this house was a recently purchased property so Sai would not be able to find it, and making his son more desperate made it easier to manipulate him.

 

But whatever delusion Hikaru was currently suffering under would worsen the longer it went unresolved, and Mitsuo didn't want to risk Hikaru going past some no-turning point and leave his relationship with Sai irrevocably ruined. Sai felt everything so personally, and he loved his adopted child so much that Mitsuo knew that only through Hikaru could he expect Sai to meet him partway.

 

"Where is Hikaru?" Sai demanded coldly. His voice was even and his eyes were steady, but Mitsuo could easily imagine the undercurrent of terror his progeny was feeling. _So cute_ , he thought.

 

Mitsuo turned his eyes to Ogata, who appeared to be fighting an inner battle between being polite to Sai's father or looking intimidating to Hikaru's kidnapper. "You must be Ogata Seiji," he smiled. "It's wonderful to meet you. I hear you've been taking great care of my son and grandson."

 

Ogata floundered for a second, clearly unprepared for praise. Apparently all those who interacted personally with Sai expected Mitsuo to be some cold, snobby criminal; it was entertaining to him, especially when he swayed them to his side. Even Sai's reaction - he had now moved to Ogata's side, almost in front of the bespectacled man and with a mighty glower - was amusing.

 

Sai's expression was thunderous. "We're not here for pleasantries-"  

 

"Hikaru doesn't want to see you," Mitsuo interrupted candidly.

 

Sai's mouth clicked shut, pain flashing across his face before he rallied himself back up. "I don't believe you," he gritted out. "I know you took him from my apartment-"

 

"We judged it would be best to remove him from an environment that was causing him harm," Mitsuo explained. He glanced back at Nishino, who nodded and pulled out his cellphone. Kawai's men had known better than to act aggressive with Sai's ward when they had entered Sai's apartment, and instead took a more peripheral approach to the situation as Kawai tried to urge the child back into reality. 

 

Nishino held out his phone so the screen could be seen by the three other men, clicking play on a video message. It took a moment for the video to load, the static clearing in a few seconds so that they could make out the low tones of conversation as Kawai's men spoke to each other. There was a tinny noise in the background growing steadily louder, until it was more human than radio noise - it took Sai and Ogata another moment to recognize it as screaming, and then the previously unseen figures at the edges of the screen disappeared altogether as the video focused on a figure curled into a ball that both men recognized.

 

Sai lunged forward, grabbing the phone from Nishino with shaking hands, violet eyes wide as the video stopped and automatically replayed itself: Hikaru screaming into his knees on the floor of Sai's apartment.

 

"What did you do to him?" Sai demanded, voice choked by fear and rage. _"What did you do to him?!"_

 

Mitsuo eyed him. "We didn't do anything," he answered solemnly. "That's what _you_ did to him, Sai."

 

Some part of Sai must have known he was telling the truth, even as he shook his head in denial; tears welled up in the Meijin's eyes, and he clamped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from sobbing. Mitsuo watched, fascinated - Sai often cried, especially during the times his pets disappeared once Mitsuo had judged them to be inadequate for his son. But this-

 

This was something far deeper. Mitsuo hadn't seen Sai with this kind of expression before, despite the many times he'd watched his son cry. It was an ugly expression, and Mitsuo marveled that Sai could twist Saika's features into something so distinctly _human_. 

 

"There must be some kind of misunderstanding," Ogata broke in, one arm clamping around Sai's wrist as he moved a step forward. His voice was calm, any earlier expression of shock at Hikaru's condition gone from his face. Mitsuo could acknowledge the ninth-dan's composure. "We just need to explain the situation to him. Please let us see him."

 

Polite and well-spoken, and unwilling to back down; Ogata had good eyes. Nice to see his son's suitor was neither a passive bystander nor pushover. Mitsuo feigned a thoughtful expression for a moment, as Ogata pried the cellphone from Sai's lax grip and closed the video, the tinny sound of Hikaru breaking no longer echoing in the room.

 

"I can understand - sometimes children misunderstand adults' intentions, even when we're only doing it for their sakes," Mitsuo agreed. "Unfortunately, Hikaru is asleep right now. You'll have to wait until tomorrow to speak with him, Ogata-kun."

 

It wasn't lost on either man as to what that name drop could mean. Sai's fists balled at his sides. "I need to speak with Hikaru," he said.

 

"And you will," Mitsuo agreed easily. "With me in the room."

 

"Absolutely not," Sai said immediately.

 

Mitsuo did not budge. "Then I'll let Hikaru know you intend to speak with him...at some unknown point in the future," he replied. "I'm sure he'll understand why you need to put off seeing him."

 

Sai grit his teeth and glared at him, recognizing the standstill for what it was. It was not like Sai could use legal channels to reacquire his charge; the adoption he'd pushed through had only been possible because of Mitsuo's resources, resources he could easily turn on Sai if he was so inclined. Storming upstairs regardless of his father's wishes would only invite a more physical resistance, and the employees would have more than enough strength to stop him. 

 

Sai would have to abide by his father's wishes, for the first time in years.

 

"I want to see him tonight," Sai said.

 

Mitsuo nodded, smile once again on his lips. "As long as you don't wake him," he agreed. 

* * *

 

Sai made a beeline for Hikaru as soon as he entered the boy's room. The room was dimly lit, only a desktop lamp the sole source of illumination, having been left on by Yashiro after Hikaru had fallen asleep. The curtains had been drawn shut and the bedcovers had been pulled over the child - making him more a small lump on the bed than a discernible figure.

 

There was just enough of Hikaru's head poking out for Sai to get a good look at his ward's face. It was peaceful as it always looked when he slept, and in the low lighting, Sai could not see any more of the miniscule details. 

 

Sai wondered if Hikaru opened his eyes, would Sai be able to tell they were red and puffy from crying? Would his exhaustion show? Would his voice crack from having screamed so long by himself, distraught over the mess Sai had made? Sai wanted to wake him, to reassure himself that Hikaru was alive, even though Sai already knew his charge was by no means well. Sai wanted to hold him, to apologize, to try and explain everything to Hikaru if it would alleviate even just a tiny bit of his suffering.

 

Sai brushed Hikaru's blond fringe out of his eyes, touch light and gentle. The boy did not stir, not even moving slightly - which was odd. In a new environment and under so much stress, Sai had thought Hikaru would have been more restless, more wary and prone to reflexive action. Perhaps the toll of the past two days had exhausted him so much that it had sunk him into a deep slumber.

 

The man paused, fingers brushing blond bangs one more time as an idea surfaced. He turned a glowering look on his father, who had remained content and complacent by the desk, watching them with a fond smile.

 

"Did you drug him?" Sai demanded in a whisper. 

 

"We slipped a mild sedative into his evening tea," Mitsuo responded easily, voice at normal volume. 

 

_"What?"_ Ogata sounded horrified, moving closer - he'd been standing a step away, trying to be considerate as Sai checked over Hikaru, but now rushing closer as if to check the child himself. 

 

Mitsuo remained serene. "Hikaru needs to rest. We barely just got him to start eating again today, which was why we felt it safer to give him some sleeping medications to encourage rest," he explained.

 

_He's not eating, he's not sleeping,_ Sai's thoughts circled around themselves. Just how much had his incompetency hurt Hikaru?

 

"He'll sleep until morning," Mitsuo stated. "If you'd like to step back into the meeting hall with me, Sai? We need to discuss living arrangements."

 

Sai’s head shot up from his careful survey of Hikaru, violet eyes wide. "What?"

 

Mitsuo seemed almost amused. "I'm afraid Hikaru will be staying with me for a bit longer."

* * *

 

Hikaru awoke to sunlight. The room was filled with it, warm and inviting as it poured in from the wide windows. The curtains had been pulled back to reveal their warm honey glow, and wakefulness came slowly but surely to Hikaru's senses. He was warm, cocooned in a thick blanket whose quality left nothing to be desired, and the smell of something freshly-cooked and fragrant was filling his nostrils and making his stomach growl hungrily.

 

The boy sat up, rubbing away the lethargy in his eyes. His scattered thoughts came back to himself as he tried to organize them: he was alone in a room. The room was the bedroom Nishino - no, _Fujiwara Mitsuo_ had given him, at the main house of the Fujiwara family. The last thing he remembered was crawling into bed as Yashiro started doing homework at the desk, mumbling math equations under his breath that were too complicated for Hikaru's current grade level.

 

Hikaru stared around the room. Yashiro had given him the house tour yesterday, and he'd already spent some time in the room - but he hadn't fully explored it yet. It seemed so heavily personalized but Hikaru didn't know how - there were a great many things in the room any person would like, like the top-end desktop computer or the Gameboy and game collection neatly displayed on several bookshelves. But some of these things were clearly just meant for Hikaru, like the Go board placed in the nook of the room surrounded by multicolored cushions.

 

Hikaru climbed out of the bed, standing on unsure feet as he gazed around the room again. This was the first time in what felt like a long while that he was alone, so he took advantage of the moment while he still could to investigate his surroundings without someone watching his every move.

 

As quietly as he could, he pulled open the drawers one after another to look at their contents. Most were just rows after rows of accessories: jewelry, hair ornaments, cufflinks, watches, ties. The desk held study materials covering all subjects in Hikaru's current grade. The shelves above it were books of various genres, and a small collection of computer games. The nook with the Go board had its own short bookshelf stand, filled with kifu and Go study materials that had not even been part of Sai's own collection.

 

Hikaru approached the other door in the bedroom. It led into a large, private bathroom – white tile, a large granite sink with fresh soap and the brand new toothbrush Hikaru has used last night, and a large, plush white floor mat laid out between the sink, the shower, and the bathtub. There was a separate section for the vanity area, with a large mirror and all-white granite backdrop. Various lotions and facial products were lined out below the mirror, still in their original packaging. Hikaru had glanced through them only briefly last night, recognizing the top-name brands but too tired to do anything with them.

 

There was a walk-in closet that Hikaru had yet to enter, as Yashiro had been the one to proffer the pajamas he was now wearing. The closet seemed bigger than Sai's room, the walls lined with shelves upon shelves, along with large sections where clothes were also hung. The flooring was thick carpeting so that his bare feet felt cushioned with every step. He took in the closet with wide eyes - there was even a small white loveseat, as if he were expected to take a break should the task of changing himself prove too daunting. The closet was already partially full, the selection almost an exact mirror to Hikaru's current collection, along with additional outfits from a similar fashion style. Shoes, all in Hikaru's size, filled the shelves; it was an eclectic variation, ranging from normal dress shoes to vibrantly-colored high-tops. 

 

"The couch is a bit excessive, isn't it?"

 

Hikaru jumped, whipping around with a startled look on his face. Yashiro was leaned against the doorway, ignoring the way his entrance had surprised Hikaru as he glanced about the room with a grin. "I was asking them what's the point of a couch in a closet," he started conversationally. "And Nishino was all _'he can sit and pull on his pants without struggle'_ and then I was like _'how much do you struggle to pull on pants in the morning, you weirdo?'_ but then Nishino got that little twitch under his right eye that he only gets when he thinks I'm being annoying-"

 

Yashiro talked a lot. The entire time Hikaru was with him, it felt like the other boy was a constant stream of words. Hikaru had thought he'd been used to such personalities given his work in the service industry, but Yashiro didn't seem to be putting on an act; he genuinely just seemed to love chattering. This made it a bit easier for Hikaru to relax in his presence, as Yashiro’s barrage of words didn't really need any replies from him.

 

"Oh, you may want to start getting dressed, breakfast will be ready soon," Yashiro advised him. "You remember where the dining room is? I've got judo practice this morning, so I'll be leaving soon."

 

"I remember," Hikaru replied. The house was large so it was a fair question, but the dining area was only just down the stairs.

 

Yashiro nodded. "Okay! I'll see you later!" he called, leaving as quickly as he'd appeared. The older boy was more of a whirlwind of energy, and Hikaru still had no idea what his actual job was on the estate. Yashiro had not been forthcoming on the matter and Hikaru had not felt safe enough to ask the boy or even the other employees.

 

Hikaru was ready in little over 40 minutes later. He'd probably spent longer than necessary considering which outfits would be appropriate for a breakfast in the Fujiwara main house, easily falling back into his old routines of analyzing how to present himself to his client's satisfaction. He'd eventually settled on black slacks, a denim button-up, and a charcoal gray cardigan sweater; a simple style that didn't challenge much in the eyes of Mitsuo's generation.

 

Hikaru tried to remind himself that he was only having breakfast with Sai's father, not meeting a client. He was here as a... guest, not as a worker. He could say no.

 

He could say no.

 

What happens if he says no?

 

Hikaru's heart hammered painfully against his ribcage. Would Mitsuo throw him out, as Sai had been aiming to do? What did the Fujiwara patriarch even want from Hikaru? An insurance he wouldn't talk, an extra toy to play with?

 

Sai did not want him, so what did it matter?

 

Hikaru flattened his hands against the material of the sweater. It felt soft and airy under his fingertips, the dark-gray color cutting a pleasant contrast to his warmer skin tone. He'd tanned again; despite the long hours spent indoors playing Go or studying, Hikaru spent more time than usual commuting these days. Practicing at Heart of Stone, trying out new restaurants and shops with his friends, even visiting Kishimoto's apartment or Akira's house; Hikaru had been allowed to get to know people in a way he'd neglected before.

 

He'd have to give all that up now. 

 

There would be no more time for friends. He would have to get by as he'd done before, which meant falling back in line with the likes of Masaki and Chikara. Akira had his Go career to focus on; Kishimoto, Tsutsui, Hidaka, and Kaneko needed to focus on school and their clubs; Honda, and Waya, and Nase, and Fukui - they were aiming for careers in Go.

 

Hikaru could not hope to follow them. Hikaru didn't have the resources to fund starting a career in Go, didn't have the strength of heart to step into Sai's career, to glance Sai in the halls of the Go institute and think-

 

_I'm sorry I wasn't enough. I'm sorry, I'm worthless, I'm sorry, I'm-_

 

"Hi~ Ka~ Ru~ Kun~!"

 

Hikaru startled at the cheery tone, stumbling out of the closet to see Kawai waiting in the doorway. The man was grinning, eyes glancing about the bedroom before refocusing back on Hikaru. "I'm playing gofer, here to fetch you for breakfast!" Kawai laughed.

 

Hikaru, still coming down from what had almost been a panic attack, stared at the man.

 

Kawai cocked his head. "You must be hungry, right? Please say yes, Arata has been slaving away in the kitchen all morning and I'm afraid if you don't eat his cooking, he'll realty start to cry," he said matter-of-factly. 

 

Hikaru blinked, flushing as he shook his head. "No, I'm hungry - I'm coming," he stuttered out in a hurry. Kawai grinned at him, turning and moving back down the hall. He slowed his pace, obviously expecting Hikaru to follow. The boy pulled on the house slippers he'd been given the previous day, following Kawai down the familiar corridors of the expansive estate.

 

Kawai held open the door to the dining room, ushering Hikaru in first. The boy entered almost reluctantly, eyes finding solace in looking at the floor. Kawai came in behind him, shutting the door with a soft click, and Hikaru took the chance to look up to make his greetings.

 

His words died abruptly in his throat when he found two more people than expected seated at the table.

 

"Hikaru!" Sai said, standing abruptly. Ogata followed suit, looking so clearly distressed that it was somehow more startling than his presence there. 

 

Hikaru couldn't help it - he recoiled, backing up into Kawai who stilled his movements by resting his arm on Hikaru's head, leaning over the boy to give the two adults a wide smile. 

 

"He just woke up, maybe don't crowd him?" Kawai suggested, playful in tone but sharp in smile. Hikaru was as still as a statue beneath him, either too scared or too surprised to move; his green eyes were wide and unfocused, disbelief trying to edge its way onto his young face. The turmoil of emotions he was feeling upon seeing his guardian's face was too much to handle at the moment, and he looked away in desperation.

 

"Shut up," Sai snapped coldly, glaring up at Kawai briefly before turning his gaze back to his charge. Hikaru flinched, he just couldn't help it - was Sai disgusted? Did he not want Hikaru here, and was annoyed his father had brought Hikaru anyway? Hikaru didn't want to think about it, didn't want to acknowledge Sai's rejection in any way. It hurt too much to bear with the reality of it thrust so painfully into his face, and the disassociation set in faster with every conscious refusal to even look in Sai's direction.

 

_I'm not here-_ "It's okay," _I'm not here-_ "I understand," _Don't look at me-_ "I understand, it's okay," _Don't see me-_

 

Sai nearly reached out, starting with halting breaths, "Hikaru-"

 

"Good morning."

 

Hikaru looked up, partially-clenched hands hovering around his ears as if he'd intended to block out all sound.

 

Mitsuo was smiling gaily from his seat the table. "Please sit down, Hikaru - breakfast will get cold the longer we ignore it," the Fujiwara patriarch said brightly. “That would be a shame for our first meal as a family.”

 

* * *

 

  **A/N** : Well... At least Hikaru has Yashiro? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ It could also be argued that the Fujiwara arc is somewhat of a recuperation for Hikaru, which would probably be easier to believe if it didn't involve people like Mitsuo running around.

_Please be kind and_ **_drop a comment._ **

 


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